MLCS 91/02246 























OVER THERE” 


The Story of a Sky Pilot 

—BY— 

W. H. MUSTON, A.B. 

AUTHOR SHORT STORIES: “BROWN’S FIRST YEAR AT COLr 
LEGE”, “HIS TEACHER’S REWARD”, “CAUGHT IN A 
BLIZZARD”, “THE ROLLING STONE”; ALSO 
ESSAY ON, “THE VALUE OF SELF- 
HELP”, AND ORATION ON, 

“LINCOLN, THE IM¬ 
MORTAL”, ETC. 



“This is a grouchy world. Ah me! 

A fellow seldom laughs. 

Why don’t we wear the smile that we 
Use in our photographs?” 


Price only $1.50, delivered 






MLCS 91/02246 


Copyright 1923, by W. H. Muston 


DEDICATED 

TO 

THE MEMORY OF 
THE BRAVE FELLOWS OF THE 
25TH ENGINEERS, ALSO 309TH INFANTRY 
OF THE 78TH (LIGHTNING) DIVISION, OF 
WHICH THE UNWORTHY AUTHOR 


WAS “SKY PILOT” 


IN 


FRANCE 


Printed by 

BANKERS PRINTING CO. 
Yoakum, Texas 







3 


FOREWORD 

BY REV. L. R. SCARBOROUGH, D. D. 

President Southwestern Theological Seminary 
Ft. Worth, Texas 

I have known this “Sky Pilot” for many years. I knew him before, 
during and since the experiences related in this volume, as a “son in 
the ministry”, as student, as soldier, as pastor and friend. I count him 
a true, noble, brave, loyal, forward-looking Christian soul, and rejoice 
to have in this book a foreword to his part in the world-victory for 
peace and civilization. 

This story is a charming record of an unselfish life seeking to save 
country and soldiers to the highest ends. It is full of thrilling exper¬ 
iences, humanly and interestingly told. It is another explanation of 
how victory came to righteousness and to those who love victory and 
peace among men, by the giving of an unselfish life at any cost to 
bring about the highest ideals and preserve the richest treasures of 
manhood, womanhood and God. 

I commend this volume which has a message of good to all who 
read it. 


INDORSEMENT 

I have read this story (in manuscript), and found it to be unusu¬ 
ally interesting as well as instructive. It is based on the author’s ex¬ 
periences as chaplain with the A. E. F. in France during the World 
War, and contains numerous bits of history and local stories, also 
many humorous incidents and dramatic occurrences. I am sure the 
book will be thoroughly enjoyed by all who read it. 

Our pastor is publishing this book in order to provide himself with 
some necessary material equipment badly needed in the work here, 
and in purchasing it you will not only get your money’s worth of 
wholesome reading matter, but will be getting a wonderful collection 
of pictures besides, and will help in a worthy cause. 

(Signed) ROY C. CAMPBELL, 

Supt. First Baptist Sunday School, 

Texas City, Texas 



4 


AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION 


THIS narrative is composed of twenty-four short stories besides 
the preface chapter, twenty-five pictures and many poems, arranged as 
if told bo an audience in three evenings, the scenes brought from vil¬ 
lages, cities and battlefields being thrown on the screen to illustrate 
each of the chapters. 

I know that war stories generally have become very trite, but as I 
recall very few have been published by ex-chaplains; therefore, I 
have tried to produce something “different”. There are many his¬ 
torical, as well as traditional stories woven in; some descriptions of 
the people and country of France, their customs and many local 
legends, are given. Here and there are impressions of the moral and 
religious life of the people, also of our soldiers. 

My purpose in publishing the book is fourfold: to record the ser¬ 
vices of my outfits overseas, better equip myself and church for work, 
furnish some entertainment and do all the good I can. 

To my many friends of the regiments I served with, college chums, 
good people of the churches I have pastored, and the boys and girls it 
was my privilege to instruct in the public schools of West Texas, let 
me say that a “friend in need is a friend indeed.” 

Acknowledgment is here made for the use of these books for ref¬ 
erence: The World War for Liberty, by Rolt-Wheeler and Drinker; 
Ridpath’s History of the World (volume on French history); Pictorial 
History of the 78th in France, by I. L. Cochrane; How to Live, by Eisn¬ 
er and Fisk; Paris in Ten Days, by Story; The Pleasures of Life by 
Lubbock, from which most of the poems used were taken. Also maps 
brought from "over there”, and finally “My Own Diary” came in handy. 

I wish to acknowledge the kind foreword on the previous page 
by Doctor L. R1 Scarborough. I am not worthy of what he has said con¬ 
cerning me and my book, but whatever good I may have done in the 
past, or if perchance I should occupy a greater field for service in the 
future, I shall have to admit that the “man of God” has had a large 
place in my life. 

And now, after many months of interrupted work on this, my first 
attempt to write a book, I send this volume forth among its author’s 
friends, and may their friends become his friends. 

Sincerely, 


Cr/'L^ 


STORIES 


5 


PREFACE: “LAFAYETTE, WE ARE HERE!” 

STORY EVENING ONE page 

I. FROM COKE TO CAMP___ 15 

II. LIQUID GOLD, FAREWELL _ 23 

III. ZIGZAGGING AMONG SUBS_ 31 

IV. “SO THIS IS ‘SUNNY FRANCE!’”__ 39 

V. HEADED FOR THE FRONT_ 47 

VI. SEARCH FOR ENGINEERS _ 55 

VII. THAT FIRST NIGHT UP_ 63 

VIII. DODGING WHIZZBANGS _ 71 

EVENING TWO 

IX. THE SUPREME SACRIFICE_ 79 

X. RAIDED IN CAMP AND VILLAGE_ 87 

XI. HELPING THE MEN CARRY ON_ 95 

XII. ARMY WELFARE WORK_ 103 

XIII. VERDUN: “ILS NE PASSERONT!” _111 

XIV. UNDER CLOUDY SKIES _119 

XV. IN THE DISMAL DUNGEON_127 

XVI. LAST NIGHT WITH 25TH_135 

EVENING THREE 

XVII. BACK TO “NO MAN’S LAND”___._143 

XVIII. RED CROSS—MOTHER OF SOLDIERS_151 

XIX. ON DUTY WITH INFANTRY_159 

XX. “LIGHTNING” HITS GRANDPRE’_167 

XXI. STORIES, SICK CALLS, TAPS -175 

XXII. PARIS AFTER BOMBARDMENT _ 183 

XXIII. ZERO HOUR AND “MABEL”_191 

XXIV. FINIS: UNIVERSAL PEACE, WHEN?_199 


APPENDIX 


























6 


SCENES 


PREFACE: “THEIR AMERICAN LIBERATORS” 

SCENE EVENING ONE PAGE 

I. CHAPLAIN INSTRUCTORS, CAMP TAYLOR___ 16 

II. EIFFEL TOWER, STATUE OF LIBERTY, WOOLWORTH 24 

III. GUNBOAT, U-BOAT CHASER, SUBMARINES_ 32 

IV. GERMAN PRISONERS OF WAR _ 40 

V. FRENCH TANKS vs. GERMAN MACHINE GUN NEST__ 48 

VI. SOME OF 25TH AT LE MORT HOMME___ 56 

VII. iESNES SHOT UP BY LONGRANGERS__ 64 

VIII. WRECK OF THE ARGONNE WOODS_ 72 

EVENING TWO 

IX. MILITARY FUNERAL BEHIND THE LINES_ 80 

X. LIGHT PLANE SHOT DOWN BY YANKS_ 88 

XL CAMP-LIFE SCENES OVER THERE_ 96 

XII. SALVATION ARMY GIRLS AT THE FRONT_104 

XIII. GAS ALARM IN THE “UNDERGROUND CITY”_112 

XIV. THE FAMOUS “KOOTIE KILLER”__ 120 

XV. FORT BUILT BY ROMANS, FIRST CENTURY, A. D._128 

XVI. ANTI-AIRCRAFT vs. GERMAN BOMBING PLANE_136 

EVENING THREE 

XVII. SCENES OF PARIS AND VERSAILLES_144 

XVIII. REFUGEES CARED FOR BY RED CROSS_152 

XIX. MEN OF 309TH ON FIRING LINE_160 

XX. GRANDPRE’ AS TAKEN BY 78TH DIVISION_ 168 

XXI. THE CHURCH BUILT BY A MURDER_176 

XXII. MAGNIFICIENT PARISIAN SCENES__184 

XXIII. MEN OF 2ND BN., 309TH INFANTRY___192 

XXIV. A “STEAM LAUNDRY”—SEMUR BRIDGE_200 























MY COUNTRY 

“My country! ’tis'of thee, 

Sweet land of liberty, 

Of thee I sing; 

Land where my fathers died, 
Land of the pilgrim’s pride, 
From every mountain side 
Let freedom ring! 

“My native country, thee, 

Land of the noble free, 

Thy name I love; 

I love thy rocks and rills, 

Thy woods and templed hills; 
My heart with rapture thrills 
Like that above. 

“Let music swell the breeze, 

And ring from all the trees 
Sweet freedom’s song; 

Let mortal tongues awake; 

Let all that breathe partake; 

Let rocks their silence break, 
The sound prolong. 

“Our fathers’ God to Thee 
Author of liberty, 

To Thee we sing; 

Long may our land be bright 
With freedom’s holy light; 
Protect us by Thy might, 

Great God, our King.” 

—S. F. SMITH 




THEIR AMERICAN LIBERATORS 










PREFACE: “LAFAYETTE, WE ARE HERE!” 9 


EVERY person familiar with the history of Our Country remembers 
that just four hundred thirty years ago—after a perilous voyage of 
seventy-one days in small sail boats—this great land of ours was 
discovered by a Spanish explorer who dared to prove his theory that 
the world was round by sailing westward to India. 

So, as you well remember, on October 12, 1492, Christopher Colum¬ 
bus himself first stepped ashore, shook out the royal banner of Castile 
in the presence of the wondering natives, and named the island San 
Salvador. 

Everybody had said it couldn’t be done. Columbus was crazy! He 
would drop off out there over the edge of the earth, be swallowed up 
by huge sea monsters, and never be heard of again. But he persisted, 
and after being turned down by several sovereigns, including the king 
of his own native land, Italy, was finally promised aid by Queen Isa¬ 
bella who gave the ambitious seaman these words of encouragement: 
“I undertake the enterprise for my own crown of Castile, and will 
pledge my jewels to raise the necessary funds.” 

The news of the discovery of a new world spread like wild fire 
throughout Spain Tirst, then throughout other countries, and, within 
less than a century the Western Hemisphere was claimed and occupied 
by many disputing nations of Europe. Then as the years rolled by 
those nations were narrowed down to three; namely, Spain, France 
and England. 

The Spanish who came solely to find gold and then return to the 
homeland wealthy, occupied Mexico and parts of the West. The French 
who also entered the ‘‘land of golden dreams” to get rich by their 
profitable fur-trade with the Indians, were scattered along the Great 
Lakes and down the Mississippi River. But the English migrated to 
America for an entirely different purpose. They came over to build 
homes. 

The English left their mother country because they could no longer 
endure oppression by their rulers, who denied their subjects the right 
of self-government. Many bloody wars had been fought on this acount, 
but sfill conditions remained about the same. Not only were the peo¬ 
ple allowed no voice in things political, but they were forbidden to 
worship the Divine Being according to the dictates of conscience. 

These liberty-loving people believed in the separation of church 
and state, in freedom of speech, right of self-government; they dared 
to read and interpret the Bible for themselves, preached that the 
church saved nobody of itself, and came out boldly against all forms 


10 “OVER THERE” 

of corruption in private, governmental and church life. Therefore, the 
persecution borne because they bowed not themselves to the yoke of 
oppression. 

Coming to this unexplored new world the English colonists began 
life all over again. They cleared away the forests for their fields. 
They built log huts in which to live. They suffered cold, hunger, 
attacks of the Red Man; but it was sweet suffering compared to life 
back home. Finally, the colonies which grew, were scattered up and 
down the Atlantic seaboard. They “stuck it out” because they came 
to build homes and lay the foundation of the world’s greatest nation 
today. The “unlucky” thirteen colonies at last threw off the yoke of 
the mother country and became the United States of America. 

However, as you well know, before the Americans gained their 
independence, they had an awful struggle. They were governed by 
laws made in the homeland, laws which were made and enforced with- 
oufTThe aid or consent of the colonies. So for a century or more they 
suffered ill-treatment at the hands of their forbears without retalia¬ 
tion, but the time came when they would do so no longer. There was 
too much righteous principle involved for them not to long for free¬ 
dom. Consequently they took up arms against the mother country and 
resisted her invasions, declared themselves free and independent, and 
set up a government of their own. In this action the Americans dem¬ 
onstrated to the world the wonderful power of a liberty-loving, God¬ 
fearing people who hold that “all men are created equal” with rights 
and privileges which must not be trampled upon by any other nation— 
not even by the mother country. The Americans also gave the world 
an example of what they could do in war—even as in the late World 
War—though they were not and are not yet, primarily a military peo¬ 
ple. But there were other tyrannical rulers besides those of England, 
and for examples we go back into the past a few centuries. 

About three hundred years B. C. arose Alexander the Great, who 
had wonderful success in subduing nearly all the known world of his 
day. But his rule came to naught at an early date. His death, while 
still a young man, brought about by strong drink and lust, cut the 
would-be world power of Alexander short, and no man was able to 
hold the conquered territories together. And if this hero had lived the 
chances were that his world-rule would, have been short indeed. 

Another, Napoleon Bonaparte, followed Alexander the Great’s ex¬ 
ample but with no greater degree of success. Napoleon was a hero, a 
military genius, but his successes led him on and on to an utter 


“LAFAYETTE, WE ARE HERE!” 


11 


failure. Finally, defeated by the English at Waterloo, he was tried 
and banished to the lonely island of St. Helena, and his world-rule 
was brought to a speedy close. 

Now, in the course of human events there arose another monarchy 
—yes, an autocracy—in the East, whose purpose was to do exactly as 
Alexander and Napoleon—rule the whole earth by force of arms. So, 
for half a century she gave her lads military training with no other 
aim in view than to become the world power. The rulers injected 
and instilled into their subjects that “might makes right”; that her 
emperors ruled by the “divine right of kings.” Consequently their 
schooling, their religion, their government and their all were shot 
through and through, not only with militarism, but with rationalism, 
atheism, and cold criticism upon all not German. Evidently this mon¬ 
archy was gaining strong foothold in those countries surrounding, and 
was fast becoming the domineering power of the East, years before 
the Great War broke forth. 

William II. could not profit by the many examples of utter failure 
to become world-rulers. He had to try it-himself. And try it he did, 
for that was all. Eike Alexander’s government his was torn asunder, 
while he himself suffered ignoble defeat, and like Napoleon was sent 
into exile. But “Kaiser Bill” should have been banished to St. Helena 
and made to saw wood there for the Allies! 

However, before the end of all this trouble came the awful struggle 
involved twenty-eight nations of the world, having a population of 
nearly 1,600,000,000, or practically eleven-twelfths of the human race. 
The loss of life approached 10,000,000, with nearly three times as 
many wounded; costing the astounding sum of $250,000,000,000. And 
besides the cost in lives and money, left in the wake of the war there 
is untold suffering, pestilence, crime; devasted forests, fields and 
cities. No wonder Sherman said, “War is hell”. And yet, in spite of 
all the cost and suffering, America had to stop what the kaiser and 
his “bunch” started. 

Three years of fury raged before the United States was drawn into 
battle. Three years with the help of hei Allies France oaf fled for the 
most part on losing ground. The manpower as well as the money- 
power of both France and England was very weak beiore our govern¬ 
ment took a stand with the besieged nations. We did not want 1 1 go 
to war. But as we wanted peace at any cost, we were willing to fight 
for it; therefore, we were willing to enter the fray that the cause of 


12 


“OVER THERE” 


right might win, and the world be made safe for democracy and “uni¬ 
versal peace”. Thus, after Germany had long continued her deprada- 
tions on land and sea, following the unjustifiable sinking of the Lusi¬ 
tania, we rallied to the assistance of our mother country from whom 
we had gained our independance in the war of the Revolution, and 
later defeated on the high seas; hurried to the rescue of the republic 
which had given us help against England, remembering the deeds of 
France’s brave Lafayette in helping us. And not only did we “get in” 
to help those who gave us birth and assistance, but to protect our¬ 
selves in the long-run, since it was a well established fact that as soon 
as Germany conquered those countries at her door she meant to gain 
strongholds in the West. 

You remember that the protests made against the barbarisms of 
the Huns went for naught. Even the severance of diplomatic relations 
failed to convince the Prussian geniuses that the United States would 
actually join the Allies in bitter conflict against the “Fatherland”. 
And if America should step into the fray, it was an open secret that 
the kaiser’s advisers held that since she was not a military nation, 
France could be crushed and England subdued before accountable 
numbers of the United States troops could be put into the field of 
battle. 

But President Wilson, though cautiously slow to take action, was 
not asleep by any means. The message in which he asked Congress 
to declare a state of war existing between the United States and Ger¬ 
many, and to authorize the prosecution of the fight against the Imper¬ 
ial German Government, constitutes a classic in literature, and is one 
of the most important documents in the history of the world. 

The President, who had reestablished the custom of reading his 
own messages, appeared before the great law-making body on April 2, 
1917, and while the whole world tingled with emotion, made his memo¬ 
rable utterances, which include the following important message: 

“The presenUGerman submarine warfare is a warfare against man¬ 
kind. It is a war against all nations. American ships have been sunk, 
American lives taken, in ways which it has stirred us very deeply to 
learn of; but the ships and peoples of other friendly and neutral 
nations have been sunk and overwhelmed in the waters in the same 
way. There has been no discrimination. The challenge is to all man¬ 
kind. Each nation must decide for itself how to meet it . . . There 
is one choice which we cannot make, we are incapable of making; we 
will not' choose the path of submission and suffer the most sacred 


“LAFAYETTE, WE ARE HERE!’" 


13 


rights of our nation and of our people to be ignored and violated. The 
wrongs against which we now array ourselves are no common wrongs; 
they cut to the very roots of human life. 

“With a profound sense of the solemn and even tragical nature of 
the step I am taking, and of the grave responsibilities which it 
involves, but in unhesitating obedience to what I deem my constitu¬ 
tional duty, I advise that the Congress declare the recent course of the 
German Imperial Government to be in fact nothing less than wc:r 
against the Government and people of the United States; that if 
formally accept the status of belligerent thrust upon it; and that it 
take immediate steps, not only to put the country in a more thorough 
state of defense, but also to exert all its power and employ all its 
resources to bring the Government of the Imperial Empire to terms 
and end the war. 

“We have no quarrel with the German people. We have no feeling 
toward them but one of friendship. It was not upon their impulse 
that their government acted in entering the war. It was not with 
their previous knowledge or approval. It was a war determined upon 
as wars used to be determined upon in the old unhappy days when 
peoples were nowhere consulted by their rulers, and wars were pro¬ 
voked and waged in the interests of dynasties or little groups of 
ambitious men, who were accustomed to use their fellow men as pawns 
and tools. Self-governed nations do not fill their neighbor states with 
spies or set the course of intrigue to bring about some critical posture 
of affairs which will give them an opportunity to strike and make con¬ 
quest. 

“ . . . The world must be made safe for democracy. Its peace 
must be planted upon the tested foundations of political liberty. We 
have no selfish ends to serve. We desire no conquest, no dominion. 
We seek no indemnities for ourselves, no material compensation for 
the sacrifices we shall freely make. We are but one of the champions 
of the rights of mankind. We shall be satisfied when those rights 
have been made as secure as the faith and the freedom of nations can 
make them.” 

On the following Friday—Good Friday—April 6, 1917, Congress took 
the formal steps which plunged the country into war, adopting the 
following resolution: 

“Whereas, The Imperial German Government has committed 
repeated acts of war against the Government and the people of the 
United States of America: Therefore, be it 



14 


“OVER THERE” 


“Resolved, by the Senate and House of Representatives of the 
United States in Congress assembled, that the state of war between 
the United States and the German Imperial Government which has 
thus been thrust upon the United States is hereby formally declared; 
and that the President be, and is hereby, authorized and directed to 
employ the entire naval and military forces of the United States and 
resources of the Government to carry on war against the German 
Imperial Government; and to bring the conflict to a successful termin¬ 
ation all resources of the country are hereby pledged by the Congress 
or the United States?’ 

Those days of excitement! How they live in the memory yet! We 
try to forget them. We do not care to recall them often. But the 
ring of hammers building camps, the call of our Uncle Sam to the 
colors, the separation of loved ones—all come back afresh when the 
war is mentioned. Soon the boys were going over. 

Among the first to make landing on foreign shores was General 
Jack Pershing with his advance guard. Proceeding at once to Paris he 
retired to the tomb of France’s brave Lafayette, on American Indepen- 
dance Day; where also lay the remains of Benjiman Franklin, one of 
America’s greatest men; and under hallowed memories with head 
uncovered our good - General uttered these four memorable words: 
“Lafayette, we are here!” 

Here my story begins, so I will first take you on a journey From 
Coke to Camp. 


“That I may not in darkness grope, 
But that I may with vision clear 
Know when to speak a word of hope 
Or add a little wholesome cheer.” 


—S. E. KISER. 


EVENING ONE 

The Story of a Sky Pilot 

-. -. - - 

I. 

FROM COKE TO CAMP 


“And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, 
Sermons histones, and good in everything.” 

—SHAKESPEARE 


“The meanest flower of the vale, 

The simplest note that swells the gale, 
The common sun, the air, the skies, 

To him are opening paradise.” 

—GRAY 


15 





CHAPLAIN INSTRUCTORS, CAMP TAYLOR 









FROM COKE TO CAMP 


17 


AWAY out in West Texas closely surrounded on the East and West 
by rocky hills abruptly rising, and on the North and South by two 
turbulent mountain creeks, lies a typical western village in the center 
of a scattered rural community. Long years ago this village was built 
by stockmen whose families resided there through the winter months 
in order to send their children to school, while the stockmen them¬ 
selves batched with the cow punchers during the week out on their 
ranches. A school building, two churches, a garage, a store and post- 
office in the same building; an old cotton gin abandoned on account 
of the drouth, and about a dozen dwellings composed the town at the 
time the trouble across the pond began. 

The winter of this section the year I lived there was cold, the 
summers short and hot; the days shorter and the nights longer than 
in a level country. You see the mountain on the East causes the sun 
to rise later, and the one on the West causes it to set earlier, than in 
a plains country. And though the days were short in summer and still 
shorter in winter they dragged by very heavily at times, for there was 
but little passing that way. The daily mail hack, the occasional sight 
of an automobile—a rare occurance in those days—or the cowboys 
coming in after groceries and mail, w re about all the excitements 
we had. However, one other attraction helped to break the monotony 
of life. That aversion was this: the finest swimming pool in all the 
land. 

Soon after my location there in July a score of boys called by and 
invited me to join them in their sport. Of course I could not refuse 
for It had been many years since I had lived so conveniently to such 
a hole of water. Over the hill on the west side of town they took me, 
down by the big dam. The tank was long and narrow, but very deep, 
being ten feet under the springboard. Such a time James Whitcom 
Riley never had in his “ol’ swimmin’ hole”. This occasion was the 
beginning of a whole summer of real sport for me. And though I 
could not dive so deep nor stay under so long as the lads who were 
used to it, I seldom lost an opportunity to be with them. So well do I 
enjoy a swim in the big out-of-doors that I made it a habit of taking 
a plunge nearly every morning before breakfast, beginning in the 
warm weather and continuing into the late fall. 

That winter was unusually cold and disagreeable. We had the 
biggest snow in years, and high winds and sandstorms were plentiful. 
But finally it broke, or rather merged into another dry spring, and 1 
began to think of some other matters along with my teaching and 


18 


“OVER THERE” 


pastoral work. In fact for several months I had considered a chap¬ 
laincy in the army, and it was only that I had contracted for another 
school and had been called to some churches in Coke County, that 
kept me from making application a year before I did. 

In the spring—just about the time school closed—I finished my 
application to the War Department and sent it in. This big fat letter 
contained one application blank asking all about where I was born, 
who my parents were, what all I had done, my educational qualifica¬ 
tions, etc; five recommendations from prominent friends of mine, 
including one college president, one of my former pastors, a doctor, 
a lawyer and the county judge of my county; and last but not least, 
my photograph: I waited only four short weeks for a reply. The wire 
came on one Sunday morning requesting me to report at once to 
Camp Zachery Taylor, Louisville, Kentucky. I have always been 
anxious to know what it was that got me through. It couldn’t have 
been my picture, nor the “flattering” recommendations. I’ve about 
come to the conclusion that Uncle Sam was up against it for Sky 
Pilots.” 

On the Sunday I received the message from the War Department 
we were having a big day at the church. At the close of the service 
that afternoon I made the matter known to the brethren and asked 
their opinion. They said I would have to decide it for myself; but I 
really think they were in hopes I would accept the chaplaincy. You 
see it was their chance to change pastors. Having expressed myself as 
being fearful of getting through at the camp, my good friend Mr. 
Banks—a young married man with a fine wife and several small 
children, who belonged to the other church there, but who is now dead 
—retorted me with, “Of course you can make it. We will be ashamed 
of you if you don’t. Certainly we would like you to stay here, but if 
you feel it your duty to get into the service, go on. And remember, if 
you go to the camp and don’t make good, don’t ever come back here.” 

That settled it for me and I at once began to make preparation to 
go. 

The day I left the good people in the valley was the thirteenth. 
This deplorable fact never dawned upon me till I was well on my way 
to the station forty miles to the north. There was another road closer 
than Sweetwater—the place where I took the train—but it was half 
as far away, so went to Sweetwater for better connection. Traveling 
by the “Henry Ford” route till I reached the station, I boarded the 
Texas and Pacific (Time and Patience) on the thirteenth of the month, 


FROM COKE TO CAMP 


19 


and began my “long” journey. I should worry anyway about the date. 

I thought we never would get through Texas. I had heard it was 
a very large state. After traveling hours and hours we ran into 
Arkansas where the tall pines grow. Different scenery from that of 
West Texas where we have the scrubby mesquites. After laying over 
a few hours at Memphis, boarded a crowded car, a smoker at that, and 
had to sit up all night without sleep. 

But we landed safely in Louisville next morning. I was lost. 
Never had I been in such a large city! It didn’t look like an army 
camp to me. But I soon found the way to the camp, then walked all 
over it before finding the Chaplains’ School. 

I was sent from one place to another trying to find the scliool until 
I walked myself down. Having made the camp two or three times I 
was just about to reach the entrance again when I accosted a soldier 
on duty. He showed me the school nearby. Well, how relieved! And 
how foolish of me! I had been looking for college buildings, such as 
I had seen once or twice before. The Chaplains’ School was located 
in regular army barracks. 

Stepping at once to Major Chaplain Pruden’s office I knocked, 
while my heart leaped to my throat. Responding to the very dignified 
command from within to enter, I tremblingly walked into the presence 
of the Commandant of the school. I did not know whether to speak 
to, or salute the major, but not yet having on a uniform I spoke to 
him. So far as I ever learned . I did the right thing. Presenting my 
orders 1 was about to be at ease when in came a chaplain in training. 
What happened made me nervous. 

The young fellow rushed in, threw his hat on the major’s desk, 
leaned against the desk himself, told his business, then started out. 
Chaplain Pruden called him back, had him hold his hat in his left 
hand, stand at attention and salute, then walk out like a soldier. The 
major perceiving my agitation over the affair, said to me: 

“So far as I am concerned it is all right for men to enter my office 
without saluting, but if I did not exact soldierly conduct of them an 
army officer would likely have a chance to trim them up in good 
fashion.” 

After leaving the chaplain’s office I wondered if he did not realize 
that I needed a few lessons, and so proceeded to give me my first. 
Well, it was a good one. 

From the Commandant’s I was directed to the camp commissary 
where I was issued my outfit consisting of three wool blankets, two 


20 


“OVER THERE” 


wool shirts, two khaki uniforms much larger than my size (I was thin 
that summer); a hat too large, shoes that pinched my corns, a spring 
cot and straw hag for a bunk; a messkit and several books treating 
such subjects as: Courts Martial, Military Laws, International Laws, 
Duties of Chaplains, First Aid Lessons, etc. These I took up to an 
upper story of a barrack as directed, selected a place for my cot, and 
began to dress up. Oh, my! thought I to myself. If my girl could only 
see me now! 

Men from all sections of the States were there, and a jolly set of 
fellows they were. Men of different religious faiths and creeds were 
now met together on a common ground for a common purpose. It was 
no time for differences in creeds to be magnified or agitated. We 
must now pull together. The common cause made us more at unity 
as men and Christians, even if we did believe differently. What’s the 
use to fuss with a man because he does not believe as you do anyway? 
The thing is to believe and practice the plain truth of the Old Book. 
But there’s one thing sure. We differ on religious ere ds, but when it 
comes to Americanism, Americans are Americans ,regardless of creed. 
And if a nnn’s religion won’t let him be an American he ought to do 
one thfng: change his religious faith to one which is not against 
Americanism. Or, if he does not do that, be forced to go bac.t to his 
own land; or at least be closely watched. 

Life in the camp furnished a good opportunity to find out just 
what a fellow was, anyway. A few, only a few were dismissed, not 
because they were disqualified educationally or otherwise, but because 
there was something lacking—or rather, as in some cases, because 
something wasn’t lacking. One brother especially, spoke freely of 
his past life of achievements, explained many things not necessary 
when reciting at class ,and found many occasions to criticise indi¬ 
viduals and conditions. He disappeared before the close of the term. 
Others had to go for one reason or another. Some could not make the 
rigid physical examination. 

I had not been in camp long before I met the only human being I 
knew there before going in training. And I had not known him many 
hours. He and I had met on the road to camp. His name is N. A. 
Moore. He came in a day late because the train would not wait on 
him. He got off at Longview to look up a friend and was left. 

Some of the other men who figure in my story are these: Shockey, 
a little fellow of the Disciples Church; Kelsey, a portly youngster of 
two hundred fifty pounds, A Methodist from Syracuse*; Vaughn, a man 


FROM COKE TO CAMP 


21 


of some weight, a Baptist from Missouri; another Vaughn, a Methodist 
o'f the Southern type from Mississippi; Engle (who was bigger hori¬ 
zontally than vertically), of the same church as Shockey, and from one 
of the Middle States. There were others, but I never met them again 
after separating overseas, or ever learned how many of them got back 
safely. There was one other, however. 

He was a young Catholic priest. Every night before retiring he 
used to kneel beside his bunk in silent prayer. Very few others did. 
1 was one who did not make it a practice, though I prayed. I was 
like the. fellow who wrote out his prayer and tacked it at the head 
of his bed. When he retired, instead of praying, he would point to 
his prayer and say, “Lord, them’s my sentiments.” 

MosT of these men mentioned were together in an upper story, and 
I suppose were called before the “Big Chief” at some time while there. 
When he wished to see any man he sent his orderly up to the bar¬ 
racks (o call out his name. Oftentimes several were call d. As the 
names were read off loudly each fellow listened breathlessly for fear 
he would be called before the stern major and “rounded up”, or 
perhaps dismissed. 

On one such occasion my name was called. Nervously, I made my 
way out to the Commandant’s office amid shouts from the others such 
as: “Be careful now!”, “Don’t get scared!”, “We’ll have your belong¬ 
ings packed when you get back!” “I hope you have to go back to 
Texas!” etc. 

I wondered what on earth I had done. Had I failed to salute an 
officer? I had already heard of a poor private who was bawled out 
by a secoAd “lewie” for not saluting. In order to make no further 
mistake he ever afterwards saluted everybody and everything, even to 
the telephone poles. Managing to get to the chaplain’s without seeing 
an officer, I stepped up to the desk, saluting this time but without 
being noticed, and reported. Looking up from his heavily burdened 
desk the major asked: 

“How do you pronounce this place S-A-N-C-O, from which you hail?” 

“SANK-O, sir”, I informed him proudly. 

“That’s all, thank you”, and he didn’t so much as look up to see 
if I got out properly. 

I enjoyed the activities of camp very much, especially the daily 
singsong in the mess hall and the twice a week “bronc busting”. But 
talk about singing, we had it! That crowd of two hundred simply 
made fhe welkin ring with “Indiania”, “My Country”, “Liza Jane”, 


22 


“OVER THERE” 


“Keep Your Head Down, Fritzie”, etc. I got more inspiration from 
those singings than from most anything else. I heard many a fellow 
say after the singsong was over, that he felt like licking the kaiser all 
by himself. 

It was real fun to see some of the “parsons” ride. The one who 
furnished most of the sport was a long, gantly fellow from the city. 
As it happened the horse assigned him each time was skittish and so 
a little hard to mount. The stirrups, though lengthened to their 
fullest, were still too short. His knees came up high on the saddle, 
his arms dangled in the air. He reminded you of “Icabod Crane 
gallopnig home that night in front of the “headless rider” of the valley, 
trying to beat that strange spectacle to the bridge. 

But the day of all days rolled around. Exams being over we were 
offered commissions as chaplains with rank as first lieutenants. 
Nearly every man in that school had orders to go overseas. Those 
east of the Mississippi were given fifteen days to report at Hoboken, 
those west of the river thirty days. I was glad to get the thirty days 
for there was someone back in Texas I wanted to have a long talk 
with. 

Before any of us could get out of camp we had to make a raise 
somewhere, somehow, to buy equipment with, costing not less than 
two hundred dollars each. As the negro said, I hadn’t thought of 
that, so had made no arrangements for money. I wired home. We 
Southern men of the same church sent a request to our denomina¬ 
tional board for help; then waited, and prayed some. I did more 
hard thinking in a short time than ever before. The secretary of the 
board wired us $250.00 each. I shall always be endebted to the denom¬ 
ination for the gift. 

Now, after faking a quick run back to Coke County where I enjoyed 
the fellowship of good friends for a few days, I then “packed my grip 
for a farewell trip.” 


s**- • *" vs*. ■ •'-v«r > - ■ >■* • r •* . 


II. 

LIQUID GOLD, FAREWELL 


“Lay not up for yourselves treasures 
upon the earth, where moth and rust 
consume, and where thieves break 
through and steal: but lay up for 
yourselves treasures in heaven, 
where neither moth nor rust doth 
consume, and where thieves do not 
break through nor steal: for where 
your treasure is, there will be your 
heart also.” 

—CHRIST, Matt.6 


23 




EIFFEL TOWER, STATUE OF LIBERTY, WOOLWORTH 



























LIQUID GOLD, FAREWELL 


25 

SINCE time for getting to my port was limited I had to hustle 
considerably to make connection. Having visited a few of my good 
friends, transacted some business, had a week’s meeting with the 
Sanco church, I cranked my Ford for the longest trip of my life—but 
did not go all the way in the “flivver”. 

Old Texas was dry that summer; especially the section where I 
had been living. Three crop failures in succession! No stock water, 
except a few wells. Grass was gone. The earth was parched. In 
fact, if a little gasoline had been poured on the ground, I believe the 
whole country would have burned up. So many people had gone. And 
those remainnig were discouraged and “broke”. It was under these 
conditions that I motored out of the land of Coke. 

The first night of the journey found me in Abilene, on the campus 
of Simmons College, my Alma Mater. I had gone there in . . . well, 
away back‘'ilTl9’07, just after she had celebrated her fifteenth birthday. 
A child of tender years she was in those days, but just at the age 
when growth is most noticeable. Her equipment in buildings was 
small, having only the old administration building and Anna Hall. 
Cowden Ha’l for men was just peeping above the ground. The student 
body, as well as I remember, for that year numbered a few more than 
three hundred. Owing to the recent raising of her standard to a first 
class college there was but one graduate the year before I landed. But 
frcm that time on graduates increased at the rate of one hundred per 
cent each year for several sessions, then jumped to twenty-eight—my 
class of 1914—then to thirty, forty, fifty and above. This year, 1923, 
there were seventy. 

At present eight or more stately, commodious, modern college 
buildings grace the campus of Simmons, while she is proud of her 
thousand and more students; a faculty second to none; equipment 
that is the best to be had; a growth unprecedented in the history of 
Texas educational institutions. This vast Western Emipre—Abilene 
the capitol, where wild Indians had roamed—once a ranching country, 
has changed to a great eductional center. But as you would like to 
say the same for your school, were you in my place, I must hasten on 
to port. 

Making the trip to Smith County before taking train I had to pass 
fhrougli the oil belt of Texas, right through Eastland County. Some 
wells were being drilled in dry Coke County when I left, but at that 
time no oil'in paying quantities had been reached. Some oil had been 
brought in at Ranger and Hog Town, but the boom was not at its 


26 


“OVER THERE” 


highest pitch. A land owner near Hog Town offered to sell me his 
eighty acre rock pile for $800, taking in my Ford for half that amount. 
I could not see deep enough under the soil to bite at his proposition, 
so declined his offer. But before I reached the Argonne Woods that 
man was selling leases and royalty enough to buy Fords, and cars 
too, by the train loads. I can imagine he thanked me a thousand 
times for nor lifting his “poor” farm off his hands. 

I suppose ft was never meant for me to be wealthy. No longer 
than six years after father moved from Shackleford County the section 
he sold Tor $12 an acre was leasing for twelve hundred an acre and 
couldn’t be bought. Then before developments were successful in 
EasTland he sold out two or three good places and moved to Taylor 
County. 

While overseas I had a letter from dear old dad, who was then in 
East Texas, telling me of recent operations in Taylor. He said, “I’m 
going back ouF west and get rich yet.” 

1 answerefl by saying, “Stay where you are. It won’t be long before 
oil will be flowing across the very place where you now live. If you 
sell you will be out of luck the third , time and may never be a rich 
man.” 

But dad did not take «my advice, just as I have not always taken 
his when I should. He went back to Abilene and is there yet. He 
has lived in the West too long ever to be satisfied anywhere else. 

Well, it looked as if I had no time cn this trip to go into the oil 
game so hurried on to the spot where my “best” friend was. There 
I remained two days only, for the date when I was to be at port was 
very close at hand. 

Thus the time passed all too quickly and“ Sunday morning found 
us motoring over to Mineola where I boarded the “Time and Patience” 
again. Oh, I don’t know what I did, nor scarcely how I felt, but man¬ 
aged somehow to get aboard. The occasion reminded me somewhat of 
the day I left the old home in Comanche County and started off to col¬ 
lege. Something was in my throat, and I guess my eyes, too. 

As the train pulled out the scene mentioned above came afresh to 
mind. I was only nineteen and had never been away from home more 
than a week at once. Dad carried me to Gorman on the wagon with¬ 
out bed. He was going after lumber. A knot was in my throat as big 
as your fist. Finally, the locomotive was seen coming over the hill. 
Dad took me by the hand and said, “God bless you, Will. I hope 
you make good. I am behind you to the extent of my means, which 


LIQUID GOLD, FAREWELL 


27 


are limited. But remember, if you have to work to stay in school, you 
shouldn’t be afarid of it, for you have been taught how.” 

As one of my "brothers, whom I had not seen for two years, was in 
the Coast Artillery, Fort Monroe, I took that route. Spending two of 
the warmest nights of my life aboard that train, and as usual without 
sleep, I had shed my blouse, rolled up my sleeves, unbuttoned my col¬ 
lar, and was sound asleep when the train halted at the first station out 
of the fort. I was awakened by a severe shake, and was scared pale 
when I saw a soldier with a gun and bayonet. He was saying, “Sir, 
where are you going?” 

I jumped, felt for my gun but had none. I looked the sergeant over 
and replied, “I’m going to France.” 

“Not on this train,” he returned very emphatically. “Let me see 
your orders.” 

Then I felt all through my pockets. At last finding the papers I 
presented them with some reluctance. After scanning the documents 
wifh one eye, keeping the other on me, he returned them and passed 
on. 

1 repeat, that was the warmest weatber I ever experienced in my 
life. Stopping by the hotel to leave my baggage, I proceeded at once 
across the draw bridge into the fort where Fred was supposed to be. 
After going through about all the barracks I found him stripped of 
most all his clothing trying to keep cool. The barracks were built of 
brick and so were much warmer than those built of lumber in the 
army camps. 

Tnis was my first look upon coast life. For a day we viewed the 
big guns, steamboats and scenes around the old historic fort. My 
“bud” entertained me with experiences he had had while in Leon 
Springs Officers School in Texas, and the Coast Artillery on the west¬ 
ern coast. He was very enthusiastic about the artillery, so much so 
that he Kept me up late telling what he had learned. 

Late in the afternoon of the second day I bearded the Pennsylvania 
passenger steamer running between Fort Monroe and Cape Charles. 
Pleasanf sailing it was—quite different from the three preceding days. 
The 'breeze "from the sea was fine. The boat glided smoothly over the 
calm surface of the water. We soon landed on shore where a train 
awaited passengers to the Great City. 

At the magnfficient Pennsylvania station covering an entire city 
block and costing many millions of dollars we detrained early next 
morning. The first person to greet me was a negro porter from one 


28 


“OVER THERE” 


of the hotels. He wanted to carry my hand bag so I let him have it. 
I wondered why he was so polite, so found upon reaching the hotel he 
was their porter. Didn’t suppose he would charge me anything, but to 
be polite I offered him a quarter. He looked disappointed and said: 
“DieutenanCl specs yo’ better give me fo’ bits.” 

No time for argument; 1 gave him what he wanted then r gis- 
tered and went up by elevator to my room on the seventh floor. 

Going down to the street soon I bumped into Moore and Shockey, 
two of the fellows from Camp Taylor. They told me my first duty 
was to report to army headquarters over in Hoboken. Since they had 
been over there and knew the rounds I asked them to go back with 
me. They promised and I ran back to the room to get my luggage. 
On coming down again I asked the clerk if I owed him anything. 
He took a dollar bill. That was one dollar fifty cents worth of experi¬ 
ence in thirty minutes! 

Then we took a subway car for Hoboken. It was but a few minutes 
rule through the "lube” under the Hudson River. We got off below 
the ground and started up. The steps were moving. Something I had 
never witnessed before. You can imagine how awkward I felt, and 
how lazy too, riding up on those moving steps. 

I was half a day going through the mill. Then I was checked up, 
issued my “dog” tags, paid off up to date and furnished with a copy 
of the sailing orders. Now we were loose to see the sights. 

On Sunday morning, the day after landing, Moore, Shockey and I 
started out to aftend church. We walked by several before finding 
one open. Some of them had a sign over the door, “Closed for the 
Summer.” This was unheard of down South in the summer. Some 
close in The winter, or practically so. But finally we walked into a 
little church which proved to be the Dutch Reformed, and said to be 
the oldest congregation in New York City. We heard a very excellent 
address on the war by the pastor in a long black robe. At the close 
we were most cordially welcomed by the minister and some of the 
people. 

Since you will likely be interested in my experiences in the Gr at 
City, I will have time to mention a few. The first was in the Museum 
of Art and Ancient Relics. We three spent Sunday afternoon there. 
We saw everything from beginning of time down to the present. 
Jewelry, pictures, statues, firearms, in fact everything imaginable. 
Some of the statues were made hundreds of years ago in Greece. 
There was a mummy a few thousand years old from Egypt—king Tut’s 


LIQUID GOLD, FAREWELL 


29 


perhaps! Though spending half a day there we did not see every¬ 
thing the museum contained. 

Monday morning we started to Bronx Park. Arriving there over 
the elevated railway about noon we first had lunch in one of those 
country restaurants. Lunch over we proceeded to see all we could 
before night. Those of you who have been to the zoo know what we 
saw. Animals of every description, many I had never seen before. 
BuCThere were three, at least, I was familiar with; the jack rabbit, 
coyote and prairie dog. They brought back memories of West Texas. 
Through those meandering paths we walked till tired and did not see 
the flowers. It was growing late. Back to our hotel we went. 

Next day we took the trip up the Hudson River, which is said to 
be the most beautiful scenery in the world. I have never seen any¬ 
thing else like it anywhere. Along the banks the millionaires live. 
Such mansions you never saw. As we sailed on the guide announced 
through his megaphone where this man and that lived: Vanderbilts, 
Goulds, Rockefellers. Besides the many mansions there were other 
sights. One of these, the tomb of Grant. Another, the great suspen¬ 
sion bridge. The bridge connects Manhattan with the mainland and is 
suspended high above the water from immense pillars four hundred 
feet above the surface. It is wide enough for car tracks, two way pas¬ 
sage, side walks, and carries tons and tons of cargo from one side to 
the otherUaily. Getting back about noon we took a spin over to Coney 
Island. 

There a regular carnival is in progress continually. Our state 
fairs are not in it at all. I saw more money-making and pleasure¬ 
furnishing devices than I had ever dreamed of in all my life. Merry- 
go-rounds, loop-the-loops, sliding boards, swimming pools picture 
shows; they had it all. My two friends insisted that I ride the shoot- 
the-shoot with them. I knew it would make me sick, and told them so. 
They persisted and I got on. Being hoisted to the top to get a start 
I looked down an incline of forty-five degrees and a hundred feet from 
the ground. We started down; I grabbed for my cap; my hair stood 
on end; my breath left; I became dizzy, blind and sick before we 
reached the bottom. What a drop! Like falling right out of the 
heavens! Then she rose, passed a few curves, then another drop! 
Over a few bridges, then a few more horrible drops! When we reached 
the getting off place my cap was gone. I was sick enough to die. 
Moore and Shockey were laughing at me. Leaving them there I took 
a car back to Hoboken. 


“OVER THERE” 


30 


Before leaving the port I will tell you about going to the 
top of Woolworth building, the tallest in the world. It was on the 
day before going aboard our boat. This building was constructed at 
a cost said to be fifteen millions. The iron caissons which support 
this immense structure reach over a hundred feet below the ground. 
The building is seven hundred fifty feet tall, with fifty-three stories, 
about twenty sTories forming the tower above the main part of the 
building. 

Stepping into the elevator we shot up till forty or more stories 
dropped below us. Reaching the first station we all got out to wait 
our turns to the top. Another, a smaller, elevator carried three or four 
to the lookout. On the car were my two friends, an old gentleman and 
myself. Stepping out we could see miles and miles in every direction. 
All other tall buildings looked like playhouses. Just then the old man 
said, “Last week a fellow committed suicide by jumping off here.” 

At hearing this I was ready to go down. Stopping at the station, 
I bought - a few souvenirs, and sent them home to my friends to re¬ 
member me by, for I had no idea of getting back alive (?) Th n the 
elevator dropped to the bottom—I thought we were going right through 
to China. As we walked out Moore said, “I feel like the poor fellow 
must Have looked; all torn up.” I felt the same way. But when ask¬ 
ed by Shockey if I was sick I said, “No.” I was determined to get 
even with them if I could. 

Next day dawned clear and bright. Everybody was in a stir. The 
boys were soon to be off. We were ordered to report at the docks early, 
and we did for nobody felt like disobeying orders. But we waited and 
waited before embarking. 


III. 

ZIGZAGGING AMONG SUBS 





“The rude sea grew civil in her song 
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres 
To hear the Sea-maid’s music.” 

—SHAKESPEARE 


“I know not where His islands lift 
Their fronded palms in air; 

I only know I cannot drift 
Beyond His love and care.” 

—WHITTIER 






GUNBOAT, U-BOAT CHASER, SUBMARINES 






ZIGZAGGING AMONG SUBS 


33 


AS we boarded the old Manchuria which had once been sunk, 
raised and put back into service as a mail steamer on the Pacific, one 
of the men was heard to say, “Boys, this won’t do. This is the thir¬ 
teenth. We’ll sure have hard luck.” But we all thought him joking, 
so moved on steadily up the gangplank. 

However, I began to feel that we had struck it unlucky the first 
night, which was spent in port. The weather was still hot, the 
breeze shut off, the small port holes affording very little ventilation. 
I chose the bunk just under the only port hole. Moore and Shockey 
—who by the way had been assigned to the same cabin with me—had 
the beds on the other side, one an upper and the other a lower berth. 
All the rest of the day and night too, we remained in port. The night 
was too warm for sleep. Quarters were too c’ose for comfort. 

After being cooped up for twenty-four hours the old boat steamed 
out of harbor, leaving the Statue of Liberty behind to mourn our 
departure. We took one long last look at her, not knowing of course 
that we would ever look upon her kind face again. 

It was a disappointment to me that I did not go over to the Statue 
of Liberty while in “New York. One reason was that no one was 
allowed up in the statue. But I knew something of its size before 
going to the port. In fact it is the largest statu e in the world, being 
a hundred fifty-one feet high. A winding stairway inside leads to 
the head, and there is a branch stairway within the extended arm. 
It is said that there is room enough in the head for forty people to 
stand. As you know it was given by the French people on the one 
hundredth anniversary of American independence. The complete 
name, given it by the donors, is “Liberty Enlightening the World.” 

For a day we coasted down shore to find our convoy. Then 
having joined about twelve other boats, including destroyers, sub¬ 
marine chasers, freighters and troop ships, we began zigzagging 
among subs. 

The second night out we had a very serious accident. It had 
been so warm the previous nights that I decided to sleep on deck. 
So I parked myself on the hard floor with life belt for a pillow. And 
though it rained on me and the stevedores stepped on me, I slept 
soundly, as you will realize by this: 

When the sun began fo shine in my face next morning I got up, 
stretched myself, and was amazed to see no other ships in sight. 
Another remarkable thing was, the sun seemed to be rising in the 
wesf. Running down to our cabin I excitedly inquired of Shockey 


i 


34 


“OVER THERE” 


what it all meant. He answered with the question, “Haven’t you 
heard about the accident?” 

“Why no; did a submarine hit us?” I asked more excitedly. 

“No, but if one had it would have been all up with you, old boy.” 

“It was only a little accident. That old crooked propellor came 
off and we are on our way back lo Hoboken, right through the 
worst sub zone of the whole Atlantic,” put in Moore. 

Needless to say I was a little nervous. And all this trouble had 
been the result of boarding on the thirteenth! 

Alone, out in the desolate ocean, traveling at the low speed of 
five or six knots an hour, the old Manchuria steamed quietly back 
to port with one screw gone. If she could have spoken I’m sure 
she woulcT have said, “I hope we’re not spied by one of those ‘sea 
devils.’ Once at the bottom is enough for me.” And those on board 
would have answered, “Once is too many for us.” 

The second day going back something happened that nearly 
proved serious. An object was spied a thousand yards away. Many 
swore it was a periscope. The four inch guns on tile aft opened but 
without effect. Presently the six-inchers on the bow fired three 
shots making a hit with the third. Then the “sub” disappeared. 

The first shot fired woke me from an afternoon nap. The second 
brought me scurrying to the deck. I saw myself on a sinking boat, 
or set afloat in mid ocean to be picked up by the enemy. Others 
imagined the same thing. 

Sadly, and yet with some degree of gladness, we went ashore 
on Sunday morning, after laying up in dock again over n’ght. We 
were disappointed that' our trip was so short, but of course felt re¬ 
lieved from the scare of submarine battles. 

After five days of waiting during which time we saw mere of 
the big city, some of our same bunch went aboard the Dutch R : jndem 
(Rindam)~in another effort to cross the pond. 

The ship had on board about the same number as the other, 
about three thousand all told. In the convoy there were ten troopers, 
a couple of freighters carrying train loads of beef and supplies; two 
submarine chasers and a destroyer. 

'As you can imagine we had quite a bit of excitement on the way 
over. More than one periscope was seen by some, several shots were 
fireTI and two U-boats actually destroyed, according to report. 

One evening, after- standing on watch at the usual time, we were 
dismissed to go to supper. I had just sat down to the table when, 


ZIGZAGGING AMONG SUBS 


35 

those sirens began to sound the abandon ship alarm. Out we went 
to positions on deck, scrambling and knocking as running out of a 
Tire. I saw the periscope, some the back of a fish, some nothing. 
But after standing by again for thirty minutes all were released to 
finish eating. By this time the soup was cold. I had taken two 
spoons of it when, “H-o-n-k, H-o-n-k, H-o-n-k,” went the lonesome 
sound of the siren. Back to our stations we rushed the third time 
expecting to go down the rope and be set adrift in mid-ocean. A few 
shots were fired after which we were dismissed to finisn eating, if 
we could eat between calls. Some of the fellows had seen so many 
subs they could eat no more. I was one of them. My mind was on 
that terrible alarm, or rather the cause of the alarm. 

There were more than seven hundred negroes on the Rijndam 
with us white folks. With these we casual chaplains were assigned 
on watch and police duty. I was on six hours a day, from six A. M. 
till noon. And I tell you it was no fun down in the bottom hold at the 
aft, doing nothing but keep the darkies out of their bunks and on 
deck if you could, and trying to keep your breakfast down. 

Those fellows were a sick bunch as well as some of us whites. 
One was down on his knees sick enough to die, saying, “Lawd, let dis 
pore niggah die.” 

Several other darkies nearby began to laugh, whereupon the 
while lieutenant bawled out, “Cut out the laughing, you black skins. 
I pray myslelf, sometimes7’ 

I know many got sick enough to die, but the hard part about it 
was'this: you knew you would not die from sea-sickness. One negro 
had started with his messkit in hand to mess. He was so sick he 
stopped by the rail, exhausted. Realizing the uselessness of such a 
thing as a messkft under those circumstances, he flung it into the 
water as Tar as he could, saying, “Good-by, ol’ messkit; I doan need 
yo’ no moP’ 

Sometimes my sympathies for the men were touched, especially at 
meal time. There was no regular eating place for the enlisted men. 
They had to sit on the dirty deck or stand any place they could get 
room. It was so warm below that most of the troops slept on deck. 
The boat was so crowded it was hard to keep it clean. Consequently 
the men got awfullly dirty eating, sleeping and lounging continually 
in the same place. 

Blfe on an ocean steamer is one round of monotony every day, 
unless you read or sleep or do something. Then, you get tired of it. 


*36 “OVER THERE” 

With all the excitement going over and some duties to perform, I 
reatT'Three ■ books and walked sixty or seventy-five miles for recrea¬ 
tion'. The early morning sport was walking round and round the 
deck till you got tired or found someone who wanted to talk instead 
of walk. 

With no lights outside, neither inside except where the doors and 
portholes were all closed, one naturally felt lonesom e after night. 
All smoking had to be cut out before dark for fear the light might 
be seen by “honorable” Fritz who was evidently lurking around. I 
Know this was hard on the cigarette smoker! They could smoke 
inside, but oh, how stuffy! I was glad I didn’t have the habit. 

Though quiet and lonely was the ship’s deck after night I went 
out eacIT evening before retiring to catch a bit of inspiration from the 
moonlit waters. That is, the moon shone when not cloudy, but 
most of the nights were as dark as Egypt. Of course those were 
evenings of meditation about the ones, or one, left behind; also my 
thoughts naturally dwelt on the future. Where wouM I be sent 
after landing?'if I should land. How long would I have to remain 
over there? These were some of the questions which we all tried 
to solve, buF in vain. 

As you know a big ship is an immense structure. Mighty, strong 
and massive, she plows through the waters as would a live thing. 
Her boilers, engines, decks and' staterooms are all wonderful. Day 
in and day out, her powerful engines never stop running while cross¬ 
ing The ocean. In fact a great ocean steamer reminds m > of a hotel, 
or a social center building afloat. There are the commodious dining 
room, staterooms, sleeping apartments, reading and rest room—all the 
accomodations which you would find in a modern hotel or a building 
designed to furnish entertainment, living apartments and recreation. 
Of course you have to remain on board till land is reached, and that 
gets Tiresome. But you can play games, tell stores, and learn a lot 
ab'ouf people you wouldn’t otherwise. 

Occasionally we saw passing ships. Everyone rushed out to see 
them. Though they were often so far Off we could not see any 
passengers or crew distinctly, yet they could talk with each other 
by wigwagging. 

Sometimes large porpoises swam alongside our boat. They were in 
big schools, Tlarting out of the water ,then going under again. All 
such sights were interesting while out so far from shore. 

While crossing over I had a chance to get even with Shockey for 


ZIGZAGGING AMONG SUBS 


37 


getting me on the shoot-the-shoot and making me sick. One morn¬ 
ing I had tried to eat breakfast, and making little success, decided 
to go up on deck. My head had just cleared the floor of the upper 
deck when I saw old Shockey leaning over th e rail feeding the fish. 
His groans made me laugh at first, but remembering that I too had 
been caught in such a predicament I stepped over to his side to lend 
him aid. I said, “Old fellow, you seem very sick. Is there anything 
l can do?” 

“Oh, I don’t think so,” moaned he, and started vomiting again. 

I wondered whaJ to say or do. I thought how providential that 
we three had been thrown together. We were such company to each 
other. I thought perhhps Moore could do something as he had not 
been so sick as Shockey and I. So I asked Shockey, “Has Moore 
come up yet?” 

Immediately Shockey bent double with one hand on his abdomen 
and the other holding his head, and with vain efforts to vomit again, 
exclaim d pitifully, “Oh my Lord! Has Moore got to come up, too?” 

Well that’s serious as well as funny. You get sick enough to die, 
and knowing you wont die from sea sickness makes it more serious. 
However, there were some in the convoy who did die, but from a 
kind of epidemic that raged. 

On one of the boats there were several men deathly sick. Some 
others were dead and dying. The M. O. (Medical Officer) being busy 
with the sick ones had left the dead to be prepared for burial by his 
sergeant. Now when they bury at sea the corpse is wrapped in a 
blanket. Two or three men were ready for burial when nightfall 
came. The sergeant had put one or two overboard and was having 
another carried out. 

“Wait a minute?” exclaimed one of the men. “That fellow is 
alive! ” 

Just at this point the M. O. stepped up, and overhearing what was 
said, chuckled a little, then replied: “I guess not. Did you not pre¬ 
pare this man, Sergeant Stebbins?” 

“I did sir,” returned the sergeant very emphatically. 

“Then proceed,” commanded the officer. 

Whereupon the men look hold and were making ready to put him 
over. 

“But hold on a minute!” spoke the voice again more seriously. 
“That man isn’t dead. I saw his hand move.” 

“Oh, well, darn it, just to satisfy you unloose him and we will find 


38 


“OVER THERE” 


out about the matter, 0 said the physician impatiently. 

The men went to work cautiously to unbind the “dead man” who 
was found to be .... a ... . actually alive! 

He was nursed~back to health and was still living when this was 
told me later by one of the men who was on the ship at the time of 
its occurrence. 

On the day of our arrival in sight of land, being the eighteenth 
on water, Moore came lumbering down the steps and into our cabin 
exclaiming, “We’re across, fellows! We’re across, fellows!” 

So excited about it were we that some of us forgot our breakfast 
in our hurry to pack up. Things were slung right and left, trunks 
packed and locked, then to the deck we went. 

We were sailing into the harbor at Brest, France. How different 
from the low shores of New York! The banks were steep and 
rocky. Houses built down to the water’s edge in places. Vineyards 
and gardens on the hillsides. Small fishing skiffs out on the water. 
We were surely landing in a new world. At least new to us who were 
on the water for the first time. 

For hours we walked the decks before disembarking. Our boat 
being too large to make wharf it anchored out in the bay. About 
three in the afternoon flat boats were sent out for us. 

Hardly had we set foot on land when someone in the crowd ex¬ 
claimed, “So fhis is ‘Sunny France’!” 


“I built a chimney for a comrade old, 

I did the service not for hope or hire— 
And then I traveled on in winter’s cold, 

Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.” 


EDWIN MARKHAM. 


IV. 

“SO THIS IS ‘SUNNY FRANCE’ ” 


. \ 


“To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 

To throw a perfume on the violet, 

To smooth the ice, or add another hue 
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 
To seelc the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish* 
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.” 

—SHAKESPEARE 


39 





GERMAN PRISONERS OF WAR 

















“SO THIS IS ‘SUNNY FRANCE’ ” 


41’ 


AFTER standing around in the hot sun (it happened to be shin¬ 
ing) for two hours big trucks picked us up and started for the casual 
camp just outside the city wall. All casuals were kept in Camp Bou- 
gent for a few days waiting for transportation to the front. Some 
of our bunch were there a week, some ten days. 

As we pulled up the crooked streets to the top of the hill I was 
impressed with the buildings and their arrangement. The houses are 
built of stone wiih no eaves as ours have. That is, the roof stops 
even with the wall, dubs right off. They are covered with clay 
tiles, as all houses in France seem to be, most of them being two 
stories. The street's are so crooked! Narrow, too. No covers over 
the sidewalks! 

The city of Brest is said to be one of the wickedest in the world. 
With a hundred thousand people, more than half of whose women 
are harlots, plenty of “booze” and gambling dens; base ideals and 
low standards of living; these descriptions give only a faint idea of 
conditions in port cities the world over, and especially in the East. 

Upon arrival at the camp I selected a squad tent in which I placed 
my stuff and prepared to rest up for another trip. I fell in with a 
rough bunch of flyers. Oh, they did me no harm, but they did cuss 
and play cards and oftentimes got vulgar in their language. They 
bought cognac from the French peasants near camp, got too much 
under their skins at times; all of which I saw no use in, but many 
did it. 

Our main amusement there (for we had no duties to perform as 
yet) was trying to learn French. I think we learned more from the 
children who came into camp daily than we did from our books. And 
I imagine the children learned more English than we did French. 
They were very anxious to learn our songs, and you could hear them 
often singing, “Hail, Hail the Gang’s All Here,” many of them actually 
believing it to be the American national air. They had been taught 
the song in English by American soldiers who. sad to say, put many 
bad stories into the boys’ minds and taught them to swear. 

Since our waitresses at the officers mess were French girls I 
soon caught onto such words as pain (bread), lait (milk), sucre 
(sugar), cafe’ (coffee), chocolat (chocolate), etc. Then there were 
many women who came into camp daily with fruits, nuts and candy 
to sell. Consequently I picked up a few words from them. There 
was also a French barbier (barber) who did your work while you sat 
in an ordinary dining chair which almost broke your neck, and back 


42 


“OVER THERE” 



too. Of course we jabbered with him! 

Yes, he did your work while you suffered! Just try sitting in a 
straight chair even ten minutes while you lean back and hold the 
same position. That was a cruel way to get a shave. From that 
first time on as long as I remained over there I never again had a 
shave in one of those back-and-neck-breaking chairs. Another reason 
I never patronized that fellow again was this: when he finished me 
I spied his “tip” box right before my eyes, with a sign which read, 
“Please Tip the Barber.” So you see why I chose to use my old 
Durham-Duplex after that. 

As the first Sunday approached I was asked to hold services with 
the 533 Engineers Service Corps, out beyond old Fort Pontinezm, 
which was built by Napoleon during the French Revolution. On 
Saturday afternoon I walked over there—a couple of miles—to make 
arrangements for the service. I went through the old camp, and 
out beyond fhe walls where I finally found the engineers, whom I did 
not know were negroes until I found them in an old muddy field. 
The captain told me it would be all right to preach to them for he 
had an idea they needed it. Then remarked, “I may be out to hear 
you myself, for it has been two years since I heard a sermon.” 

Sunday afternoon I went back. It was cloudy and had rained, 
but the captain had his sergeant blow the service call, then go around 
and tell fhe darkies what it meant. I saw them begin to crawl out 
from fheir “pup tents” where they were doubtless shooting craps, 
and begin to gather at the place designated. It was an old field 
surrounded, as all fields in Brittany are, with a hedge fence built 
of rock and dirt, over which there had grown a turf of grass and 
hedge bushes. 

Close beside the hedge five hundred negroes gathered and stood 
while one of the darkies got up on a box and led the songs. Then 
I mounted the box and spoke on the subject, “The Power of the 
Word” (Psalm 119:11). Of course I got numerous “amens,” “now 
youse preachin,” etc., for the darkies are good at that. I had preach¬ 
ed to negroes before and knew that they always back a preacher up 
with such demonstrations as mentioned. Well do I remember the 
first time I spoke in one of their churches in Abilene, Texas. 

My brother and I had gone down and arrived early. We went in 
and sat cTose to fh e front. Directly the darkies began pouring in. 
They completely surrounded us. The service was started with a 
song. Then they prayed. While the longwinded brother was lead- 


“SO THIS IS ‘SUNNY FRANCE’ ” 


43 


ing in prayer the pastor sent one of the deacons down from the pulpit 
to ask me to ~come up higher.” I said, “All right, just as soon as 
the prayer is over.” When the prayer was finished I went to the pul¬ 
pit, leaving my brother behind with the dark bunch. The pastor 
shook hands with m e and sat me between two other darkies. When 
time for the introduction came I was introduced to the audience as 
follows: 

“Bruddern and sisters, we are glad to have one of the white 
preachers with us tonight. I know he will bring you a great message 
for he is one of the most extinguished preachers of Simmons’ College” 

One of the most extinguished preachers! But since I was young 
with little experience I think now the misused word was used right. 

But that break of the negro did not make me feel any worse than 
I was made to feel by what a white man said of me once. I had been 
preaching several years and about through college. I was asked to' 
fill the pulpit in my home town. I did so, and thought I got off 
extra well that morning preaching on the “Second Advent of Christ.” 
At the close one of the deacons announced: “You people come and 
shake hands with this young man, for he has done very well for a 
new beginner.” 

Well, as I went back from the camp where I preached to the 
negroes I met one of the fellows from Camp Taylor. I forgot his 
name, but we walked back together, taking our time to see all the 
sights we could. 

One of the peculiar sights was their fields. They are little en¬ 
closures about the size of a small truck farm over here. Many of 
them surely do not contain five acres. They are rather flat in 
Brittany, though in the interior of France you will see many crops 
growing on the steep hillside. In Brittany these fields are sur¬ 
rounded with hedges, as mentioned above. These hedge fences do 
not run in any certain direction, but in all directions as their streets 
do. On their farms they grow grain, grapes, and most all kinds of 
vegetables. 

Another sight we witnessed that day was the people in their Sun¬ 
day clothes. They pay no attention to style, that is our styles. 
The men wear big trousers, big brimmed hats, fancy coats and 
wooden shoes. The priests wear black robes reaching to the ground. 
They are flared at the bottom and look sloppy to Americans. For a 
hat the priest wears a big brimmed, derby sort of a sky piece. Of 


44 


“OVER THERE” 


course he has around his neck a long string of beads with a crucifix 
dangling at the end. 

The women are just about as much dressed up as the men. We 
noticed that the women of Brest wore a loose fitting, long black frock, 
and wooden shoes. Both old men and old women smoke the pipe. 
However, the men learned from the Americans how to smoke ciga¬ 
rettes. 

The French certainly go strong on wine and other drinks. They 
have no prohibition. It’s not only “light wines and beers” but strong, 
as strong as they want it. They have it on the table all the time. 
The women generally drink so much red wine that their cheeks are 
red. If you dine with them and refuse to drink wine they feel 
insulted. 

Before reaching camp that Sunday afternoon we had to cross a 
small brook. Several women were washing clothes. Down on their 
knees at the water’s edge “paddling” and scrubbing with all their 
might. Some of them had a box with one end out in which they 
placed their knees to keep out of the water as much as possible. 
But they washed in the cold water! All over France I saw women 
washing this way. 

But I did not see much around Brest. You couldn’t get out of 
camp without a permit from the C. O. However some would slip out 
at night, fill up on cognac, and drop over the wall getting back. One 
fellow fried' this and happened to. a serious accident. You see the 
moat on the outside of the wall made it quite a drop from the top. 
This fellow dropped, made a bad landing, broke his arm and three 
ribs. Was picked up by the guard, given first aid and put in the 
guard house. His shot of cognac was very expensive. 

Before closing this chapter I quote from a letter which I wrote 
the “one” back home. All “sentimental stuff” is left out. 

“At this writing the Germans have lost on some of the sectors. 
The fight now is around Metz. Germany seems to realize the Ameri¬ 
cans are in. the fight. I think she is up against it. Prussian auto¬ 
cracy must be crushed. Just when, no one knows, but the impression 
generally is that the big fight will come next spring. 

“We remain here in camp a few days before being sent to G. H. 
Q. (General Headquarters) where we receive our appointments. 
While waiting I am learning more about the chaplain’s work and am 
anxious to get some real experience at the front, or somewhere. Of 


“SO THIS IS ‘SUNNY FRANCE’ ” 


45 


course I know not where I shall be sent There’ll be plenty of ex¬ 
citement most anywhere. 

“We get good chow at the officers mess. They get it from the 
U. S. commissary. It costs us two and one-half francs, or fifty cents 
a meal. French girls serve the tables, and if they did not bring most 
everything on the plate I’d be up against it, for it’s precious little 
French I know. Besides beef, potatoes, coffee, sugar and canned milk 
from the commissary, they give us carrots, cabbage, and o her vege¬ 
tables from the French markets. 

“Railroad trains here look like toys beside ours. The cars I have 
seen so far have only four wheels and look as if they might haul as 
much as one of our army trucks, if well loaded. • The locomotives 
look like an old time switch engine, but very much smaller. The 
passenger coaches I have not seen yet, I don’t know what they look 
like. Funny, I’m sure. 

“I think army life is great if you don’t weaken. One thing makes 
ft great, of course, is the cause we’re in. We are not only helping’ 
to put a stop to the murder of helpless women and children, and 
the ruthless destruction of property, but we are helping to pave the 
way for democracy in the East, and give the people a chance. 

“This is a queer oM world, France is. The people are dirty and 
slouchy, their houses quaint and their customs are foreign to me. 
The people seem to be far behind us in civilization and progress. 
However, they know more than one might think, and could teach us 
lessons on economy and thrift', if we do boast of greater progress. 
They are slow, take life easy, but get by somehow. The fact that the 
French so seldom use bath tubs, and the women are such good cooks, 
calls to mind a statement I heard a French captain make in a speech 
to us Americans. He said they had learned many things from us and 
hoped that we learned from them. The fact mentinoed above about 
their dislike of the water, and their good cooks had caused him to 
wonder why an American plumber and a French cook wouldn’t make 
a good combination for marriage. 

“I do not know when we’ll leave here nor where I’ll be sent, but 
you shall hear from me as long as I can write. Trust the time shall 
not be long when I shall be getting a bunch of letters from you.” 

In the casual*camp there were several fellows who had been to 
the front. They entertained us “new ones” with stories of their 
experience in the fight.- Some of them had been wounded, some 
gassed, some sent back to teach others how to fight. A few French 


46 


“OVER THERE” 


“poilus” came out to see us occasionally. Their stories were inter¬ 
preted by French speaking Americans. One of them said: 

“The Americans don’t fight like the French. The French go slow; 
they take their time; they know they can win before entering a bat¬ 
tle. The Americans dash right in without thinking, seemingly. They 
have the ^daredevil’ spirit. They are courageous. At first they took 
German prisoners as we do, but now they don’t.” 

When asked why the American army would take no prisoners the 
French soldier replied: 

“The Americahs had to learn that every time boches yelled 
‘kamerad’ they didn’t mean it. Many times they had grenades in 
their hands and would kill the Americans. So the American soldiers 
got orders not to take any prisoners, unless of course a large 
company surrendered.” 

One of our men told how he had killed a German officer. The 
soldier had captured him and marched him to his C. O. While being 
questioned by tne C. O. the soldier saw the G' rman reach for a 
dagger which had not beep discovered as yet by his captors. The 
American soldier rammed his bayonet clear through the prisoner, and 
saw him fall 'dead. 

Well, such stories caused me to wonder if I hadn’t made a mistake 
to join the army. I was about to decide I had enough war already 
when Moore came up and said, “Fellows we have orders to pack up. 
We leave before day tomorrow for the front.” 

At hearing this I went down by the Y. M. C. A. shack to get my 
good old U. S. money changed into francs, “soap wrappers” as we 
called French paper money. There I saw Shockey whom I told about 
our move toward the front. Whereupon he said: 

“Well, I’m ready. But I tell you, Muston, what let’s do. Let’s go 
over to the Salvation Army shack, take a good look at those American 
girls and eat some of "their pies, for you know it may be ages before 
we see either again.” 


V. 

HEADED FOR THE FRONT 


“So Providence for us, high, infinite, 

Makes our necessities its watchful task, 

Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants, 
And e’en if it denies what seems our right, 
Either denies because ’twould have us ask, 

Or seems but to deny, and in denying grants.” 

--LEIGH HUNT 


47 




FRENCH TANKS vs. GERMAN MACHINE GUN NEST 






HEADED FOR THE FRONT 


19 


IT was three A. M. when we were roused from our peaceful 
slumbers to take the outgoing train. Baggage and men on, the big 
truck bumped over the rough cobblestones to the station. The early 
morning air was indeed invigorating, for the recent showers had put 
coolness into the atmosphere. Except for a few dimmed street lamps 
here and there dense darkness brooded over the whole city, and quiet 
reigned over the old port, disturbed only by the roaring noise made 
by our truck. 

Presently we stopped at La Gare (the station) where the dinky 
cars waited. No one was there except the A. T. O. (American 
TransportaTion Officer), and he on the outside, the Chef de Gare 
being still at home in bed. After being checked out by the A. T. O. 
we began climbing into what we thought to be our train, but which 
proved to be the wrong one; which fact we learned just in time to 
make the change before getting left. Some had said one train was 
the r:ght one, others had said the next was. Nobody seemed to 
know for sure. 

French railway coaches are built very differently from American. 
There are two styles. One is entered at the side through doors which 
open into compartments separated from each other by partitions. 
The other is entered at the end as- ours are, but the aisle is on one 
side and the compartments on the other. These little rooms are not 
connected with each other by doors, so in order to pass from one to 
the other you have to pass outside the compartment into the aisle. 
Or, as in the case of those which do not have the aisles, pass outside 
the coach in order to go into the next room. The seats are cushioned 
if the car carries first or second class passengers. But if third class 
they are hard wood. There is room in each compartment for six to 
twelve persons. They furnish a very cozy place in which to travel, 
especially if the cars be first class—for they have the finest upholster¬ 
ing and accomodations for that class. These small rooms have this 
advantage over ours: they are easily heated in winter, and are more 
private. But I don’t like them as well. 

The French have coaches, cars and roads to suit all conveniences 
up from the seats. The difference of course being the, difference in 
the arrangementTof the seats; the French berths being crosswise in the 
car, and the American being lengthwise. As I recall now I slept on 
a French berth one night only. Many, many nights I slept on board, 
but was sifting up or trying to lie on the seat. 

The berths on French coaches,, like those on American, are made 


50 


“OVER THERE" 


and purposes. They have two narrow guages—twenty-four inch and 
thirty-six inch—also the standard guage used on the main lines. 
Their locomotives even for the standard roads are very odd looking. 
They have tall smokestacks, copper boilers—many of them—and no 
“cow catchers.” The reason, I think, they do not have “cow catchers” 
is there are no cows to catch. That is, no cows or other stock ever 
get on the right of way, the roads being fenced. Yes they are very 
quaint looking affairs, but the looks in things and people make one 
of the many differences between France and America. 

For the most part this was a very pleasant trip, at least for the 
first day. The train had a diner, so of course we had dinner on board. 
This was much more pleasant than eating cold corned beef, (com¬ 
monly known among.soldiers as “canned willie” or “bully beef). But 
m y experience that day was not so pleasant. It happened like this. 

The porter came through the train before meal time giving out 
meal checks to all who wished to eat. These checks were numbered 
so that each had to go when called. The train was crowded, so of 
course there were several servings. Every hour or so the porter 
came through calling out the numbers. In English parlance I sup¬ 
pose he said: “First call (second call, third call, etc.) for dinner. 
Diner in the rear.” I could understand nothing he said, consequently 
had to guess at my time to eat. Twice I went in too soon, and find¬ 
ing no place, returned to my seat to wait the next call. Finally, 
after almost famishing, and at the last call, the porter let me in. But 
I was unable to read the menu car. What was I to do? When the 
waiter came I made signs for him to bring it all. He did so, including 
the wine. The dinner was served French style, course at a time, and 
lasted one hour and thirty minutes by my Waterbury. Oftentimes I 
waited fifteen minutes between courses. I had always been used to 
eating when at the table. The French do a lot of unneessary talking, 
it seems to me. How slow they are! When the meal was finally 
finished I had to pay the nice little sum of ten francs ($1.75) before 
the porter would let me out. 

The first night on the way to the front was spent in Le Mans at 
Hotel Paris. My two friends and I got a room together. This was 
nicely furnished with beds, washstand, wardrobe, draperies, electric 
lights and a nice grate for fire, if needed. 

Oh, that bed! They do have the best I ever slept in, except the 
one at home. We “fell in” early. Had a right to a good bed. It 
had been exactly thirty days since any of us had slept in a sure 


HEADED FOR THE FRONT 


51 


enough bed. Oh, boy! I jumped in and went clear under the feathers. 
Forgot all about the war and slept like a log. 

Next morning breakfast being over Shockey and I strolled down 
in town. The first store we went into was a kind of a racket store. 
It proved to be this and more. The old man who kept it had a regular 
museum in connection with his business. He tried to show us and 
sell us every thing he had. We were not disposed to buy since we 
were not headed for home. But this did not keep the old fellow from 
being courteous and accomodating. He showed us ancient pictures 
by the great artists, books, beds, and “beaucoup” relics collected from 
centuries past.' For fifty years he told us he had gathered these 
things from all over Europe. 

Again our travel was resumed to.be hindered by a five hour lay¬ 
over at Tours, through which city I passed three times while in the 
service. When our train was boarded again two of our party—my 
friend LK5ore being on e of them—were missing. We learned later 
they were kept “behind on account of sudden illness. When they 
came into headquarters we teased them abou: getting too much cognac. 
They denied The charge and upon the sworn statement by each of 
them that they had not had any cognac, we admitted them again 
into the clan. 

Somewhere at one of the stops several fellows got off to get lunch 
and were left. We had stopped so long at the little stations that 
they thought they had plenty time to lunch a the cafe. Imagine a 
Bunch of American “parsons” getting left in a foreign land! The 
train was so slow they had thought it would wait on them. But it 
didn’t. They came into camp also twenty-four hours late. 

After leaving our fellows we stopped at a country village three 
hours. They would have had time to walk the distance had they 
known we were stopped. Near the track at this station lived a man, 
his wife and daughter. They gave us grapes galore in return for 
tobacco which some of the “pilots” had. I had none, but even among 
chaplains you’d find a number who did. For the “tobac” the old man 
not only gave us grapes but brought forth some choice “vin rouge” 
from his cellar. 

The Frenchman praised Americans very highly. He said had they 
noT come over to help them the Boche would have subdued France 
before long. He praised us very highly for the stand our govern¬ 
ment had taken in the war. 

On our way over to G. H. Q. we passed through some very beauti- 



52 


“OVER THERE” 





t'ul country. But as we drew nearer and nearer the trenches big shell 
craters dotted the hill sides. Now and then a village was badly 
wrecked. Once we passed some English tanks badly torn from shell¬ 
ing. These were dragged out by the side of the road to give traffic 
the right of way. 

Occasionally we stopped nearby a German prison camp. Some of 
us knew more German than French, and could converse with the Ger¬ 
mans a little, 'though I fear they took us to be a bunch of “rough 
necks.” We told them what the Frenchmen said about 'them. Told 
them we had come over to “lick the stuHin out of them.” But they 
were some mothers’ boys, and many of them very young, too. But 
they were captives, prisoners of war, and could not be expected to bt 
treated as they would at home. However, I was told that many of them 
were treated so well they would not have- left camp if turned loose. 

Third day after leaving Brest we pulled into Chaumont which was 
our A. E. F. headquarters over there. Out five or six miles in a 
counfry village was headquarters for unassigned “sky pilots.” We 
were carried out there where we remained a few days for rest and 
instruction; also, to wait for our assignments. 

The school was located in an old chateau by the side of a small, 
clear running stream, set on either side with tall trees. Beyond the 
chateau from the river (as the French called it) a rocky hill abruptly 
rising. Across the river stood most of the village. This beautiful 
qufet cove furnished an ideal place for rest and receration. And 
with Chaplain Randolph in charge we were royally entertained and 
carefully instructed while there. 

The fellowship in this school was the best I have ever known any¬ 
where. I suppose one reason for it was that we were soon to be 
separated, maybe to meet no more. We had seen a little touch of the 
real thing. We knew our days for being together were numbered. 
At mess, in the evening prayer and talk service, out on the campus 
“setting up,” we felf as brothers would feel under such circumstances. 
The prayer services, especially, were wonderfully helpful. For in them 
we talked to God about the war, our lives, and the ones left behind. 
None of us were ashamed to pray before turning in while there. It 
seemed to me that I came in closer touch with God than ever before. 
I lived a good deal in those four days. 

We were nof far from the front. Occasionally the roar of guns 
could be heard. The fighting was still around Metz, and a stubborn 
fight it was. The Germans had the city as strongly fortified as the 


HEADED FOR THE FRONT 


53 


French did Verdun. It seemed to be impregnable, but after several 
weeks of bombardment and fighting it fell, our forces having a large 
part in its capture. While the artillery roared over there Major 
Chaplain Randolph—for seventeen years in the service—and who had 
been to the front,' told us stories which either put metal into our blood 
or weakened our courage, according to the mood we were in. 

Major Randolph told of a chaplain he knew at the front who 
stayed in his dugout while his men went over the top, many of them 
being wounded and killed. Not only so, but twenty-four hours after 
the bombardment ceased he was still unseen on the battlefield. His 
C. O. asked for no explanation. He needed none. He severely repre- 
manded the chaplain and sent him to the rear. While there were a 
few like this one many chaplains won the “croix de guerre” and other 
medals for deeds of bravery and faithful service. 

Sunday morning there was service out on the lawn. The good 
Sky Pilot mentioned above conducted it and preached. He was a 
prince of a fellow. And a good preacher, too. His sermon was an 
encouragement to me for I was beginning to feel rather shaky, hear¬ 
ing those stories ana the roar of guns. Seemed that since I had gone 
thus far it was too late to turn back if I had wanted to. The service 
was the first since I preached to the negroes in Brest. It made mo want 
to do all I could for the wounded and suffering, and to look my duty 
square in the face. 

That afternoon I took my Corona out to a tent in the beautiful. 
Warm .sunshine to write some letters. This would probably be the 
last good opportunity I would have to write. While thus pecking 
away on my typewriter Moore came out and told me that he already 
had his assignment. He was to be with a hospital. I asked, “Did you 
have any choice in the matter?” 

“No. Not a bit,” said he rather slowly. “I wanted to go to the 
front. I wanted to be with the infantry and see excitement.” 

“That’s just where I don’t want to be,” I told him. “But, after 
all, one might as well go to the trenches as not. There is excitement 
all right, but plenty of service, too. I will step into the adjutant’s 
office and see where I’m going.” 

On making the inquiry I found that I was to be with the 25th 
Engineers, then at St. Nazare, a port town, just as far from the 
front as possible without going aboard a boat! I wondered why I 
had been sent away back across France. Likely I would never see 
a trench. 


54 


“OVER 


THERE” 




That evening under the soft moonlight Moore, Shockey and I 
took our last stroll together. The moon shone there so seldom that 
when she did show her beautiful face it made you homesick. Around 
the hill in a winding road we walked till the hour was late. It was 
a most happy evening we three spent relating the experiences of 
school days, the successes and failures we had had in our calling, 
togther with stories of romance as it related to each of our lives; 
for each of us had left a friend behind. We had not heard from them 
since going over, either. I was away two months before receiving 
my first letter from the good old U. S. A. Ah, what a feeling of joy 
I had when I got it! 

As we returned from our stroll each expressed himself as having 
a delightful walk, trusting that we all would see each other again 
after the war was over. 

Just as we reached the campus Shockey said, “I am now beginning 
to realize the truth of Cicero’s words about friendship: ‘They seem 
to take away the sun from the world who withdraw friendship from 
life; for we have received nothing better frcm the Immortal Gods, 
nothirg more delightful.” 

Whereupon Moore replied with: 

“He who has a thousand friends, 

Has never a one to spare, 

But he who has one enemy. 

Will meet him everywhere.” 

We were back. All the others had turned in'. Soon I was under 
the cover dreaming about my 


VI. 

SEARCH FOR ENGINEERS 


\ 


“Daffodils, 

That come before the swallow dares, and take 
The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, 
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes, 

Or Cytherea’s breath pale primroses, 

That die unmarried, ere they can behold 
Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady 
Most incipent to maids; bold oxlips and 
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, 

The flower-de-luce being one.” 

—SHAKESPEARE 


55 





» 


I 


SOME OF 25TH AT LE MORT HOMME 









SEARCH FOR ENGINEERS 


57 


AGAIN the truck bumped along the road back to Chaumont. Ar¬ 
riving, each fellow was so busy taking care of himself and baggage 
that our bunch scattered and we were never all together again. 

While checking in at the A. T. O., Chaplain Vaughn, the big 
Vaughn from Missouri, borrowed my fountain pen and in my hurry 
to get through forgot all about it. It was one I had brought from 
home. I missed it very much. While in Paris on leave I met 
Vaughn again, and he paid me for the pen. 

Three of us, but not we three who had been so closely associated 
for many weeks, took the same train west. In our hurry to get off 
I never saw Moore and Shockey at the station. Did not remember 
just where they were going. 

The first lay-over was Tours where we had stopped on the way 
down to G. H. Q. Finding lodging in the Y. M. C. A. hotel, we got a 
fine night’s rest before resuming our journey. Twice I had been in 
Tours, and was to have quite an experience not many days hence 
passing through again in search of my regiment. It was here that 
one of the other fellows took another route, leaving Irwin and myself 
to travel together as far as the coast. 

All day we traveled after leaving Tours, and into the night be¬ 
fore reaching St. Nazaire. Irwin went out to the camp where his 
outfit was stationed. I went on into the city to locate my engineers, 
for as yet I knew not where they were. 

Dark in another sea port. No where to stay. Just wondered if 
there was a “Y” hotel there. Found out there was. It was several 
blocks from the depot, on the street fronting the bay. Reaching the 
place in safety, I enquired of the “Y” man if he had a bed for me. He 
said there was not a one left. Well, it looked as though I would sit 
up. But feeling sorry for me, he said he had a couch up in the attic, 
and if I didn’t mind sleeping away up there I could have that. I 
said, “Mister, I have slept in all sorts of places since leaving home. 
I’ll be glad to have the cot. Put it anywhere you wish.” 

Then he took me up three flights of stairs and showed me the cot 
which looked good enough when a fellow couldn’t do any better. I 
was lucky to get such a place that night, for had the owner of the 
bunk been in I would have "been out of luck. 

Breakfast finished next morning I proceeded to look for my outfit. 
Found the port chaplain who gave me the information. Learned this 
about the 25th Engineers: For six months St. Nazaire had been 
their headquarters. They had done much of the construction wcrK 


58 


“OVER THERE” 


around the port, and in the interior. They had built warehouses, 
camps, railroads, and had done the concrete work on the docks there. 
They had had no chaplain with them while in the port area. 

I asked the chaplain, “But where are they now?” 

He replied, “The last batallion left yesterday for Le Mans, where 
the whole regiment will prepare to go to the front.” 

I said “good morning” to the pilot and hurried down to the station. 
But my baggage was nowhere to be found! I simply could not leave 
my possessions behind and trust to luck to get them, so waited for 
their arrival. Every day for nearly a week I went to the Chef de Gare 
inquiring about my stuff. In the meantime I saw some interesting 
sights around port. 

While in St. Nazaire I walked the streets, sat in the sunshine 
close to the beach watching children play in the sand and water, or 
amused myself otherwise. Was interesting to me to watch the fisher¬ 
men ply their trade. 

These fishermen would put out from shore apiece, wait for the 
tide to come in, then cast their nets and haul in the fish. Sometimes 
they came in without many, but generally had their boats full. 

Up town on the streets the wives of these rough old men sold 
from their two-wheeled carts, fish, crab, shrimp—and many other 
“sea animals” I Had never met. I like fish, but at seeing those un¬ 
sightly old women and smelling the scent from their fish wagons, I 
wanted none. 

Part of each day I amused myself down by the water watching 
the children play in the sand and wade in the surf. Their mothers 
or guardians came down with them and, stretching their little tents 
to protect themselves from the sun, sewed or did needle work while 
the children played. The “kiddies” built sand houses or mountains, 
or dug ditches with their little spades. Some would wade the water 
or sit down and let the waves roll up around them. I could tell that 
they were having the time of their lives, and thought to myself, I 
have missed many a happy hour by not living on the seacoast. 

However, after a few day’s sojourn at this wicked port I was per¬ 
fectly willing to forego all those childish pleasures on the coast, 
realizing the temptations to wrong-doing at seaports must be very 
strong. Like Brest, Bordeaux and all other ports, St. Nazaire is an 
awfully wicked and immoral city. Gambling, booze and prostitution, 
the worst enemies to good morals are prevalent. Here many soldiers 
got entangled in these vices. This unfit them for good service, and 


SEARCH FOR ENGINEERS 


59 


not only so, but wrecked many a poor fellow’s life for all time to come. 

My baggage having caught up with me I set out in all haste pos¬ 
sible to join my men. I had to make the trip over part of the route 
already traveled. Once more I changed at Tours. This time it was 
three A. M. I went directly to the “Y” hotel where I had stopped 
on the way down to St. Nazaire. But there was no room. Up and 
down the streets I looked for a place, but all hotel doors were 
locked. OVer here all trains are met by hotel porters in the largest 
cities. Not so in France, or I failed to see anyone that morning. 
With heavy handbag in hand I walked, it seemed to me, miles and 
miles. Should have gone back to the station, but what I wanted was 
a bed. Consequently I strolled as far as there were any rooming 
houses, then started back. Was pretty cold, therefore I kept walking. 
I thought my arm would break. After an hour of such exercise I 
stopped in the park to rest on one of the benches. Feeling somewhat 
hungry I opened my bag and got a loaf of dark French bread and a 
piece of corned beef and had a fine breakfast alone. 

Surely I was beginning to realize some of the ill-conveniences of 
war. Four thousand miles from home, in a foreign land, hunting 
for a regiment not a soul or whom I knew; unable to speak French; 
but I knew what Sherman said war is before I entered, so decided 
the best thing I could do under the circumstances w’as to go on my 
way rejoicing. I was only beginning to know some of the hardships 
of war; I would learn more the further I went. 

Breakfast over, I returned to the station to wait a few hours. 
While standing up against the wall on the outside I saw an old 
Frenchman picking up cigarette stubs and coming toward me. He 
stopped and began to jabber. All I could say was “Oui, Oui, Misseur.” 

I hardly thought he was entitled to the polite address, but it was all 
I knew. About that time another old bum, one of the former’s pals 
I suppose, started into the station. He showed by his walk that he 
had plenty booze under his belt. Then the bum who had been picking 
up the dirty cigarettes said to me excitedly, “He zigzag! He zigzag!” 
meaning that he was so drunk he could not walk straight. I knew 
what he meant, for the ship did that way going over. 

Tours, you know, is remembered by history students for a famous 
battle fought there, known as “The Battle of Tours.” I should have 
been glad to learn some of the local stories about the battle, but 
fearing my regiment would leave me I lost no time. Scrouging into 


60 


'*■0 V E R THERE” 


a second class coach with ten or fifteen “buck privates” I traveled 
all day before reaching Le Mans. 

Since the country through which we traveled- that day was far 
from the line of battle, it was not torn by shells and other high ex¬ 
plosives. It is a beautiful country, too. I never saw so many pretty 
gardens in my life. Truly, France may be called the “garden spot 
of the world.” Every home has its garden and vineyard. The French 
farmers certainly live at home, and not out of paper sacks as do 
Americans. Cabbage, carrots, collards, turnips, onions, most every¬ 
thing in this line grow there. And the garden plots are as level as a 
floor, those we saw that day, laid off in the most a tractive way pos¬ 
sible. It just made me hungry to see that stuff growing. 

Even the hillsides are beautiful. Oftentimes we saw crops of 
grapes growing on these, some of which looked to be as steep as 
forty-five degrees. Where there are no fields on these hills the grass 
grows and stays green all winter long. Frequently we saw springs in 
those hills, and the water trickling down the hillside in the sunlight 
presented a very beautiful sight. 

Arriving in Le Mans at eleven in the morning I went at once to 
HTotel Paris where I had stopped before on our way to G. H. Q. 
Having inquired about the 25th and found that they had headquarters 
down in the city, I dropped down there just before noon. Soon I 
met Lieutenant-Colonel Payne and his adjutant, Lieutenant Judson, 
who afterwards received his captaincy. They sent me out to the 
camp at once and I began to meet the men I had searched for for 
nearly a week. I found them to be a fine set of fellows, well educated 
for the most part, thoughtful and very courteous to me as their new 
chaplain. I suppose the reason for their being so thoughtful concern¬ 
ing my welfare was that they had been without such a “necessary 
evil” as a “sky pilot” ever since they landed in France, more than 
six months before my arrival. 

Again as when we first landed over there I lived a week in a 
squad tent. It was well I had a shelter too, for no sooner had I ar¬ 
rived on the scene than it began to rain. The men were less fortu¬ 
nate than I. While they kept reasonably dry they suffered the ill- 
convenience of sleeping two in a “pup” tent.on the ground. I could 
not but feel for them as they had a mighty sloppy, muddy time of it. 
But they did it cheerfully, and generally without kicking. 

The main purpose of sending soldiers through the camp at Le 
Mans was to give them instruction and equipment for front line ser- 


SEARCH FOR ENGINEERS 


61 


vice; also to wait for adequate transporafion. Here we were sup¬ 
plied with necessary clothing, gas masks, helmets; drilled in the use 
of gas masks, how to do first aid and “toughened up” for the real 
fight. Some very funny, as well as serious things happened. 

One of these occured with the use of the mask. They were first 
tested in the gas room. With masks adjusted we passed through 
this room filled with “tear” gas. It had its right name. If any got 
under that mask the tears flowed freely. We whites generally got 
through without being gassed, but the blaeks always got it. Of all 
the yelling, teasing and laughing, they had it. 

Once I heard a negro, whose eyes were streaming with tears, say, 
“I jes knows Til be gassed if I goes up to the front. I jes knows I 
will for a fac’. Them Germans will sure get this nigger.” 

Out to the drill grounds we were marched daily for practice with 
masks. The lieutenant, or perhaps his sergeant, in charge arranged 
his men in a circle, he himself standing in the center to direct the 
drill. The orders for putting on the masks were given by counts. 
“One” was to open pouch and remove the face piece; “two”, adjust 
face piece about the fingers; “three,” put on the mask, etc. We 
were drilled until the necessary speed and accuracy were obtained, 
the quickest time for putting on the thing being seven seconds, I 
believe. 

I got many a good laugh watching the negroes drill. They had 
games th y played with their masks. In one of these they stood in 
two lines facing each other. The darky in each line to be last get¬ 
ting his mask adjusted went foot; the line having the least number 
to go foot for a given period won the game. As in the case of going 
through the gas room they yelled as though at a football game. 

At Camp Le Mans I began some practical service with the men. 
There was a Y. M. C. A. commissary down in town. Here I got my 
men magazines, stationery, sweets and a few athletic articles. So the 
fellows spent much time when off duty writing home and reading. 
When not raining they batted ball and played catch. I entered this 
, sport with them and feel that it was the beginning of my getting 
into the hearts of the tellows, if at all I did. 

Not only aid I play with my men, but I ate with them. We 
messed, officers and all, at the common mess kitchen. I fell in line 
with the “rookies” and waited my turn to be served. Then went* out 
and sat on a box or the ground; or if no box and the ground wet, 
stood up withYhe men. Other officers did likewise or sat on a corned 


62 


“OVER THERE” 


“wooly” box in the mess kitchen. If it were raining we dined in the 
rain, since there was no place else to go. 

Once in a while some fellow would get sore at the weather, or his 
officers or something else, light in to cussing a blue streak; but as a 
general thing our men took things patiently as they came. They all 
knew what Sherman said war is before going over, but realized that 
there was more truth than poetry in what he said, after starting to 
the front. And the closer we got to the trenches the greater im¬ 
pression Sherman’s statement made on us. 

Before leaving the camp I went down to a French store and did 
some shopping. Among pther things I bought a knapsack, or musette 
bag, as we called them. This I could swing ovey my shoulder and 
carry along my Durham-Duplex, hardtack and “bully" beef, and a 
clean pair of socks. In all I spent over a hundred francs and gave 
the merchant a 200 frank check, getting the change. A long time 
after the Armistice I got a letter from this Frenchman saying that 
I had failed to endorse the check, consequently he had failed to get 
his money. He wanted me to send him another check and he would 
return the old one. It was too close to going home time for me to 
be bothered, so I do not know whether he ever got his money. If 
he didn’t he paid well for his carelessness. 

While in this camp, just a day before moving out, I received my 
first letter from the one left behind. Being the last letter for another 
six weeks I prized it very highly. I have it yet. 

Next morning at sunrise we were all shot.to the front. 


“So nigh is grandeur to our dust, 

So near is God to man, 

When duty whispers low, Thou must, 
The youth replies, I can." 


—EMERSON. 



VII. 

THAT FIRST NIGHT UP 


“In thoughts from the visions of the night, 
When deep sleep falleth on man, 

Fear came upon me and trembling, 

Which made all my bones to shake. 

Then a spirit passed before my face; 

The hair of my head stood up. 

It' stood still, an image was before mine eyes. 
There was silence; and I heard a voice saying, 
Shall mortal man be more just than God?” 

—BOOK OF JOB 


68 




iESNES SHOT UP BY LONGRANGERS 








65 


THAT FIRST NIGHT UP 

AT sunrise the 25th was marching to the station. Lieutenant 
Purdcm of (lie M. C. (Medical Corps) and I marched in the rear to 
take care cf those who “fell out” or got sick. After a two hours 
Like we reached our train on the siding at Le Mans. It was made 
up of French box cars, with some s cond class coaches on the rear 
for the officers. 

The enlisted men—forty “hommes” to a car—piled into their 
places. Needless to say they were badly crowded. But with a 
bountiful supply of army rations we ate frequently, and so long as a 
soldier got plenty to eat he could sit up a few nights without sleep. 

We were three days and nights on the road, going all over France 
before reaching our destination. Frequent stops wer. made, at somi of 
which either tlie French or American Red Cross served us with coffee 
and hot chocolate. This “hot stuff” served as a stimulant and I 
think greatly aided in the digestion of our cold rations. We met 
many trains coming from the front. 

On these there was much war equipage as, limbers (two wheeled 
wagons), trucks, artillery, p’anes—German as well as French and 
American. From the great number of our planes we saw the air 
service must have been suffering at that time. At the sight of enemy 
wreckage a yell of, “Hurrah for the Yanks,” invariably arose from 
the boys. 

Nearer and nearer our train approached the war zone, until the 
last two hours of the run when we began to climb a hill. On thi3 
stretch two locomotives puffed and tugged at their task. Even with 
two we traveled very slowly. I think they had been to the front 
be r ore, so did not hurry themselves. Around curves, over bridges, 
through the forests and over the hills they chugged till they reached 
the end of the road. Then th se French “dinkies” got a rest. 

Early in the morning of the last day’s run I saw my first air bat¬ 
tle. We had stopped for lunch while the locomotives rested awhile. 
Presently we saw black smoke patches burst forth high up in the air. 
These proved to be explosions from the anti-aircraft guns. Oc¬ 
casionally we heard the report from them. There was a battle royal 
on. With eyes eagerly watching someone spied plane3 in battle 
formation. They were being chased back from enemy lines.. Our 
anti-aircraft men were on the job doing all they could to keep back 
enemy planes. It was a hot chase, but soon ended. We were gradu¬ 
ally being introduced to modern warfare. 


66 


v ek ^Were ” 

At last our r1 W^in pulled into Clermont, the. railhead nearest the 
front on the west. Out from every door and window soldiers were 
seen pouring till all were on the ground. Hot lunch hastily pre¬ 
pared^ we ate, then packed our trucks for the final relay of the trip. 

About four in the afternoon trucks loaded with men and baggage 
were seen pullmg out of the shell torn village. Through villages and 
country delapidated ' from / recent shelling our trucks roared. Shell 
holes were thick J as^' prairie' dog mounds in West Texas. The 75’s 
had done some awful dirty work along our route. The villages were 
all shot up, too. Within a few hours after our passage through 
Vraincourt, where our -^headquarters were afterward located, a Ger¬ 
man shell struck an old'building used for a garage and transportation 
headquarters and kiEed four Americans, wounding several others. 
This I learned alter being up a few days. 

About dus"k rain began to fall gently. With no protection except 
our short rain coats we naturally got very damp. Our progress be- 
-ihg impeded by the rain, nightfall caught us before we reached the 
woods where the colonel meant to camp. We could see from the 
flash of the long-rangers that our position would be in the bend of 
a horse shoe, for there were guns to the right of us, guns to the left 
of us and guns in front of us. Where were those drivers taking us, 
anyway? They seemed to be lost, even before dark. 

As we saw the flash from those big guns and heard the distant 
road men looked askance at each other and wondred what on earth 
they were getting into. That we were getting a touch of the real 
thing could not be questioned even by our officers. The main ques¬ 
tion was, how much further up are we going? This, no one seemed 
fo know. Though dark, the old trucks kept buzzing, occasionally get¬ 
ting jammed in the road, but pulling out again. Finally one of the 
fellows on our truck yelled out to the driver, “Johnson, where aro 
you going?" 

“I’ll be darned if I know; ask the colonel,” replied Johnson, im- 
parrnetly, “You’ve ashed the question, now answer it." 

finally, the two trucks that were still together, jammed in in c 
road full of cars which could go no further. Patiently we waited 
while the rain gently fell upon us. About midnight we were turned 
into a shell torn village which we afterwards learned to be Esnes 
(Ames'). Here we lodged for the balance of the night, and eyen till 
twelve the day following which was Sunday. It was muddy, water 


THAT FIRST NIGHT UP 67 

ran down, the streets, and there was no place where wet men could 
gef a shelter. 

It had been reported by someone that there was a dugout up the 
hillside about a hundred yards. This sounded good to me, so good 
that I set otft alone on an expedition of discovery. I had gone only 
half the supposed distance to the dugout when the whole earth was 
illuminated, then “BOOM” burst a sh ll somewhere mightly close by. 
For an instant I was dazed. I knew not whether it was a whizzbang, 
a torpedo from an enemy plane or what it was. I knew something 
had “bust.” I was reminded of what an unassuming girl had said 
once “to a clerk. She came in for a sweater. He showed her what he 
had, while nothing was said by either, then he ask d her, “What bust, 
Miss?” She replied, “I heard nothing bust.” Well, I heard some- 
tfilhg "bust* up there on the hill. I knew not whether to stand 
there, fall flat or run like a scared wolf. I had seen by the flash 
of the light that it was awfully muddy all around me. They had told 
us Iff case of shelling to fall flat down. I would have rather been hit 
with a sheir than to fall into that mud puddle. It was too dark to 
run. So I just stood there. Amid all this confusion another shell 
“bust’^and this time I figured that it was a big gun up the hill pitching 
pills over on Fritz. But I did not go further in search of the dugout. 

Splitting the mud back down the hill I passed my truck up and 
beat it“down to the corner of the street where there was a kind of 
dugout' under the village church now badly shattered. Four or five 
men were in the passage-way which led to the cellar underneath. 
In there were fifteen or twenty French soldiers asleep. Immediat ly 
on stepping inside I decided that the number had not been over esti¬ 
mated; they snored to beat sixty, and seemed not to realize the 
danger they were in. There between the sleeping quarters of those 
soldiers and the outer shelter, in the doorway, I sat listening for a 
shell to hit the old building and finish her up. 

But all this excitement did not keep me awake. I fell asleep to 
be Half aroused occasionally as the biggest gun just under the hill 
a hundred yards away opened up her fire. Every few minutes this 
big fellow shook the valley from center to circumference till I no 
'longer was aroused, and slept nobody knows how long. 

In a dream I saw forms passing before me, ghastly and bleed¬ 
ing. I heard a voice say, “Shall mortal man be more just than 
God?” No, the Germans could never be justifiable in causing such 
awful murder. God surely would bring .the rulers to judgment. And 


68 


“OVER THERE” 

while I thus mused a soldier grabbed me by the arm and hollowed 
Co the top of his voice right in my eai, “GAS!” 

Within less time than it takes to count a hundred I slapped the 
“muzzle” over my face and was safe. Before the order was given 
to remove masks 1 again fell asleep and knew nothing till the lad 
shook me and yelle'd again, “Take her off, buddie!” 

Sunday dawned cloudy and gloomy. No breakfast! Eleven 
o’clock and no service! Road still jammed with trucks as far as you 
could see both ways. Not a one moving. We were wet, cold and 
hungry. 

But before noon some of the fellows and I got wood enough to¬ 
gether to build a fire by which we dried out. Then the cooks made 
coffee and we had dinner. It was the first real square meal in 
several days. 

Two of the 25.h’s trucks were lost from us. As we wormed out to 
the hilltop we found them in front of the guns which kept up such 
a racket that night. The fellows said that they thought to goodness 
they had landed in the midst of the fight. As the colonel related 
his exciting night’s experience in front of the guns, I said to myself, 
I’m glad we got stuck where we did. 

While our trucks hauled our baggage around the road most of 
the men walked across the field to the edge of the woods where 
we camped two nights before making our permanent camp in th3 
woods near Montfaucon. 

I had no idea where I would hide that Sunday night. My bed¬ 
ding never came, and if it had there was no place to spread it. 
Luckily I met an officer of another engineer outfit. He informed 
me that there was a vacant cot in his tent on the hill above our 
kitchen. I took it and was glad indeed to get it. We had no gas 
alarm that night, but the constant roar of the American 75’s kept 
me a little disturbed. 

Morning came. I arose, went down to mess kitchen for breakfast. 
First fellow to hail me was Lieutenant Purdom whom I had missed 
ever since we took trucks at Clermont. He greeted me with .“Good 
morning, chaplain. Where were you Saturday and Sunday nights? 
I missed you.” 

Then I told the doctor where I had been and about my excitement. 

We ate together, then both of us went up to the tent where I had 
slept. I busie'd myself by sewing on some buttons, mending my 
trousers, then looked through the woods for a dugout to stay in. I 


69 


THAT FIRST NIGHT UP 

found no dugout not already taken, so built one for the doctor and 
myself. 

The house I constructed was not a dugout. It was built in an old 
gun implacement, and made of 75 boxes and sand bags. On tnree 
sides were sandbags already. The other side I stopped with the 
shell boxes. When our house was finished it was very cozy. It had 
a'Tire place dug into the bank. But the ground was damp and our 
bedding had not come. The house was covered w T ith tin roofing 
camouflaged with dirt and limbs from trees. Beside this hut were 
piled a big bunch of 75 shells, a big portion of which had never been 
exploded. We were perfectly safe so long as a shell did not hit 
the hut or the “live” shells outside. 

Before noon Purdom and I decided we would go over to see “No 
Man’s Land,” and incidently try to find out about our bedding. We 
needed it badly. We took the grade being thrown up by our engineers 
till we could go no further, except through the barbed wire and over 
shell holes. 

That was in the Argonne Woods, or rather where the woods had 
been. It was literally shot to pieces, hardly a tree being left whole. 
There were dugouts in great numbers scattered over that sector. 
Some of these were built of concrete, rinforced with steel. These 
were known as “pill boxes” (ammunition storehouses). You would 
think fliey were impregnable but I saw many of them ripped from 
shelling. 

Trenches ran in every direction. Some of them were knee deep 
in water and mud, but they had “duck boards” to walk on. Trenches 
were Fined and supported with a lattice work of limbs from trees 
and sand bags. In a trench before a deep dugout we found two dead 
Germans. 

They had evidently been killed with hand grenades thrown by the 
French or possibly Americans. One had his hand shot off while the 
other’s head was nearly blown from his shoulders. After moving up 
to our permanent camping place I found some other Germans and 
many of our men left dead and unburied. 

While viewing this horrible sight, though the dead men were 
Germans, we had more fully come to realize the awfulness of war. 
Just then a whizzbang was heard singing through the air—“Boom”—it 
burst in “the road not more than two hundred yards off. Then 
another and another fell in and about the road where our trucks with 
baggage were stuck. I looked at Purdom, neither saying a word for 


70 


“OVER THERE" 


a few seconds, when he broke the silence with, “What do you chink 
about going back to camp?” 

I quickly replied, “I’m on my way back, now.” 

No sooner had we started than the American long-rangers, in 
front of which we were, began to return the enemy fire. Some of 
them were almost a mile from us, but there was one at closer range 
—possibly four hundred yards to our right. This big fellow shook 
everything. Wou ought to have seen us jump shell holes! Every 
time an artilleryman pulled his trigger we jumped clean over one of 
those craters. We proceeded against the concussion from our guns, 
but did it easily since German whizzbangs were falling behind us. 
Reaching the grade again we quickened our pace till reaching the 
fellows at work. The lieutenant in charge perceiving our haste 
hollowed, “Where are you fellows going?” 

“You talking to us, lieutenant?” I asked without stopping. 

“Yes; what’s your hurry?” questioned the officer again. 

Nervously Purdom returned, while we kept going, “Oh, r.-a, why 
we got no breakfast this morning. We’re going to chow.” And on 
we went. 

Part of the afternoon we sat in our new quarters and talked over 
our trip to No Man’s Land. We told every fellow we talked with 
how near we came to being blown to pieces by shells; how deep the 
holes were, and how thick the barbed wire entanglements. Some war 
experience we had had! 

Night came on. No bed that night. But having gathered plenty 
of wood; and placed some duck boards on the floor of our hut, we 
sat up and kept warm. Once we tried sleeping on the boaro*, but 
found it hard sleeping. To add to our discomfort our fire smoked 
badly. Before morning we had company. 

An outfit stopped just off the road by our house. We learned 
from two of the fellows that they had been up three weeks without 
sleep, and were literally worn out. These two boys told us of their 
long Stay in the trenches and added, “We’ve got orders to go back 
at daylight.” 

Day dawned with a gloomy outlook, as usual. But before noon 
the clouds had cleared away somewhat, when orders came to move 
up closer the front. 


T a . • a~. 

yin. 

DODGING WHIZZBANGS 


“Think not I dread to see my spirit fly 
Through the dark gates to fell mortality ; 

* 'T* 

Death hath no terrors when the life is true 
’Tis living ill that makes us fear to die.” 




71 






WRECK OF THE ARGONNE WOODS 





DODGING WHIZZBANGS 


73 


TAKING advantage of the open weather Colonel Payne moved 
his regiment to a more permanent location. This was in the Ar- 
gonne Woods on the road between Malancourt and Avocourt, three 
miles south of Montfaucon, four miles east of Verennes. Montfaucon 
was located on a hill overlooking the woods, was strongly fortified 
by the Germans, but was nevertheless taken when the Americans 
got into the woods. Verennes was on the bank of a river and was 
also strongly fortified, but fell into the hands of the French by the 
help of our forces. Malancourt and Avocourt were small villages 
which had been literally shot to pieces by shell fire just a few days 
before the 25th went into the woods. So you can imagine how de¬ 
vastated the country looked. 

Baggage and regiment having gone ahead, the Colonel, one or two 
other officers and I, were left to make the two or three miles afoot. 
As we proceeded over the railroad grade that afternoon we were 
disturbed occasionally by the roar of a cannon ahead. A few shells 
f 11 in the woods, two or three landing in the vicinity where those had 
fallen the day previous when Purdom and I attempted to get to our 
trucks jammed in the road. But no turning back this time. Anyway 
the Colonel was along. Had to put on a bold front when the C. O. 
was on the scene. 

We proceeded through the worst torn up section of the Argonne. 
Shell craters, big and little, wrecked pill boxes, deep dugouts, trenches, 
big timber shattered everywhere leaving stumps above the ground; 
it was a sight to behold. But having crossed No Man’s Land we 
stopped dn the road where the timber had somewhat grown up and 
where the forest was not so badly wrecked. Here we proceeded to 
make our camp where we remained several weeks. That was a very 
good location since the timber would camouflage our tents, trucks 
arid equipment. 

Here on the road our baggage trucks had been stuck and had 
thrown off our bunks. Finding mine I asked the C. O. where I must 
put"Tt. He replied T5y saying, “Plenty of room, chaplain, put it where 

you d- please.’’ So I began a search for a suitable location for 

my bed. Could have carried it into a dugout but was afraid of 
“cooties.’’ Nearby was a wooden shack which had evidently been 
occupied by Germans, but the colonel advised me to stay out as it 
might by charged with dynamite. Well, I wanted neither cooties 
nor dynamite so dragged my bed roll into a thicket of bushes near 
the road. 



74 


“OVER THERE” 


Awhile after dark I crawled into my cozy apartment scantily 
furnished but good enough for a sleepy soldier. Sleepy? I should say 
so! Nearly a week had dragged by without seeing me in bed. I was 
dead to the world until about three in the morning when a few pistol 
shots woke me. Great heavens! are we having a battle? I asked 
myself. Besides the report of automatics and shouting of “Gas” by 
the sentinels, the news was spread by Claxton auto honks. The ter¬ 
rible noise those honks made was as doleful as that made by the 
whizzbangs. I would have declared forever that the enemy was upon 
us had not I heard the sentinels yelling “Gas.” So with as much 
haste as possible I adjusted my mask, feeling all the while that if 
there was any gas I would get my share. That very night we had five 
gas alarms! no shelling, but we needed none! After putting on and 
talcing off the mask a few times I actually fell asleep with it on, as 
I had done before. 

The second' day I spent exploring the woods for dead soldiers 
which had been reported left in the woods unburied. With the help 
of a~Hetail of men I planted many beneath the soil, but will relate 
the particulars in the following chapter. 

We went into our camp just three days after the Germans had 
been driven out. For two or three years the French and Germans 
had’ camped opposite each other, the Germans holding the woods. 
Earlier in the fight the Boches had taken the sector, tearing up the 
woods considerably at that time, but had remained quiet for months 
and months. It is said that the French and Germans were on such 
good terms with each other that the French washed their clothes in 
the stream one day, and the next their enemy used the same hole of 
water. That kind of fraternity did not suit the Yanks. By the time 
they hit the woods they were raying to go. And though unsatisfactory 
to “the French, they did go. They dug those “birds” out of their 
dugouts. 

Since we arrived so soon after the affair took place there was all 
kinds of war equipage left on the battlefield; such as rifles, trench 
mortars, machine guns; plenty of ammunition, including enough hand- 
grenades for another fight; helmets, bayonets, and a few French tanks 
stuck in shell holes. Besides having all this with which to amuse 
ourselves we had daily a shelling ,an air raid or something just as 
thrilling. 

Right after noon one day I passed through a trench near my bunk 
in search of dead bodies. I found where one had lain but someone else 


DODGING WHIZZBANGS 


75 


had moved him, so continued my search for others. The day being 
far spent I turned my steps campward. Before going far the Huns 
opened fire on the cross roads, as was their custom daily, in order 
to block the traffic of allies. They certainly knew the country, for 

many trucks, teams and men were torn to shreds at that place. On 

this particular afternoon a few shells strayed over close to camp. 
It was the third time I had been really scared, this time worse than 
before, because I was all alone. The fellow who says he was close to 
bursting shells and did not get scared is either mighty “hard boiled” 
or has little regard for the truth. I was just entering the woods 
when one of those whizzbangs burst in the midst of our csmp, so I 

thought, not more than two hundred yards beyond me. I knew I 

was not hit, but could not but feel limber to save my life. 

When the firing receded I rushed into camp and found that the 
shell that - hit so close had burst in a trench not more than twenty- 
five yards from my bunk—right in the trench I had passed through 
earlier in the afternoon. I felt like moving my bed but did not that 
day, though they were hitting mighty close for a fellow to have no 
protection except a clump of bushes. It was somewhat like the story of 
the blue northers in Kansas. You’ve often heard it said that there 
was not a sign of protection between you and the north pole except 
a wire gate, and that had been left down. We had the barbed wire 
entanglements, but they had been torn up by shells. 

The second night I decided to sleep like a white man. Not having 
had my clothes off for a week, and there being no shelling the night 
before, 1 expected to rest in peace the whole night long! unless of 
course we had a gas alarm. That would not take a fellow out of bed. 
So I turned in like we do at home. And what a fine bed I had! 
Though it was on the ground and a shell had hit close to it, and 
though artillery roared only a mile away, I slept soundly until some¬ 
thing happned, as it usually did. 

Before I fully awoke I could hear a dreadful whirring coming 
nearer and nearer. Having heard the same noise before no one had 
to tell me what it was. With its doleful, lonesome whirring it woke 
me—then “BANG” right close. I jumped straight up in bed. Waited 
for the ne^tTone. Of course it hit closer—so I thought. And it really 
did. Jerking on my shoes and overcoat hurriedly I was out in the 
road with some other fellows before another had time to fall. For 
three hours Fritz kept hurling those things our way, sometimes get¬ 
ting very close. AT such times we walked—rather flew—further down 


76 


‘‘OVER THERE” 


the road, then came closer camp as the firing receded. The distur¬ 
bance ceased, we went back to the mess kitchen where the K. P. s 
were at work preparing an early brakfast. 

Before breakfast a gas alarm was given, and before that was fully 
over a barrage was opened on the enemy. Of all the noise! I had not 
heard any before. Guns roared on all sides of us. Some of these 
were in close proximity to camp, between us and the Germans. Two 
or three “big hoys”—those I had h f ard two days before while crossing 
No Man’s Land, belched deadly fire over our heads. This constant 
roar of cannon was kept up two hours then it subsided, and the in¬ 
fantry went over the top. If I had been with infantry I would have 
gone over too; but was really better pleased with my engineers that 
morning than I had ever been. You see we were close enough to 
be satisfied if one could be satisfied at all. 

Having no cover over my apartment I began to cast about for 
protection from the showers—and the shells too. So after a week’s 
“comfortable” stay under the bushes I decided to build for myself a 
hut nearer the men. There were two reasons why I wished to be 
nearer them. One was that they might better find me; the other, I 
simply felt more comfortable with others. 

Securing a pick and shovel, some corrugated iron and timbers, I 
built my own house. I could have asked for a couple of men to do it, 
but thought I might as well work a little myself. Thus I began by 
first digging a trench three by six, about three feet deep. Several 
fellows passed while I was at work, and nearly every one asked if 
I was digging a grave. They seemed to think it strange that I had not 
called for a detail for such purpose. The trench completed, I placed 
some heavy timbers along one side, then some more six feet away par¬ 
allel with the ditch. The hut I covered with the corrugated iron shot 
full of holes, making a roof which formed a half circle over the trench 
and place for my bed. The purpose of the ditch was to give me room 
under the roof to sit up on the edge of my bed and hang my feet off. 
My bunk I spread on the ground opposite this “grave.” Over the iron 
I threw dirt to keep the rain out. Over all this I placed brush for 
camouflage. My new home completed I crawled in early to enjoy it. 

But for some reason or other I could not sleep. I do not know 
till this day what the trouble was. We had no shelling, no gas alarms, 
no air raides. There was a strange occurrence, however, which nrght 
have had something to do with it. It happened like this: 

Suddenly the whole earth was lighted up as bright as day. I 


DODGING WHIZZBANGS 77 

could have picked up a pin from the ground. At the time I did not 
understand the strange phenomenon, byt learned later that it was a 
German flare shell used to detect our night movements. I had never 
seen anything like it before. The light was amber in color and'tfS 
bright as the brightest moonlight you ever saw. 

But I just could not sleep. I must have had what we call the 
“blues.” I tried to determine the cause but could not. I felt de¬ 
pressed, lonesome and discouraged. I felt as if I wanted to be 
“bumped off” before morning. But there’s no use for further adjec¬ 
tives. You probably know how a fellows feels with the blues. If 
you have never had such an experience, get ready for it for you will. 

This strange feeling stayed with me most of the following day— 
Sunday—but finally I succeeded in shaking it off. Here is how it 
was done. 

After the noon mess one of my men walked back to my dugout 
with me. He had some letters he wanted censored and wished to 
talk about some other matters. We had a jolly time together. Upon 
leaving the young fellow asked me if I meant to have service that 
evening. Somehow I had not thought of that, since there was no 
convenience in the woods for such a thing. We were also prohibited 
from gathering in crowds for fear of being seen by enemy planes fly¬ 
ing over. But I told my friend that I would see about a service and 
if possible to have one would have it announced at the evening mess. 

Upon inquiry of the C. O. I learned that it was all right to hold 
service for the Yellows if they didn’t mind standing. At mess I had 
it announced, and just before dark we gathered near the mess kitchen 
for such purpose. Not one of the men would lead the song service 
so Hackled it myself. All the book I had was the army song book, 
not so very appropriate for a religious service. But we made it do. 
We sang several of those familiar airs, including “Pack up Your 
Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag,” and “Smile, Smile, Smile.” Somehow 
I began to feel much better, and after speaking to them awhile my 
blues were completely gone. That Sunday night I slept like a log. 

Upon rising next morning I was met by Private Bailey as I started 
fo the mess kitchen. I asked him where he was the night before 
that I had not seen him at the service. He replied by telling me this 
story: 

“My buddy and I were up near the cross-roads yesterday when the 
Huns dropped a few pills over. Some troops were passing along the 
road when one of the shells burst on the roadside. Several men were 


78 


“OVER THERE” 


badly wounded. I ran and picked one of them up carrying him into a 
trench near the road. He was gasping for breath, and soon died in 
my arms.” 

“What did you do with him?” I asked. 

“There was a chaplain with the outfit to which the man belonged, 

jso jie took charge of the body.” 

Two weeks I remained in the Argonne before getting far from 
headquarters. My principal duties while up there were censoring the 
mail and burying dead soldiers. None of my men were killed in that 
immediate place, however a few from one of the companies were 
killed further up. Soon the companies were scattered. . Then I had 
hard work" keeping up with all of them, holding services, furnishing 
entertainment and supplying them with stationery and reading mat- 
* ter. 

Fall rains were now setting in. So sloppy, oh my! It had rained 
all night, the last night I stayed with the men there, but I kept dry 
in my dugout. But I wasn’t well. So up early and over to Sergeant 
Martin’s iodine, salts and pill shack I stumbled for medical attention. 
Upon stepping in the sergeant said hopefully, “Good morning, chap¬ 
lain. Have you heard the latest rumor?” 

“No. What is it?” I asked excitedly. 

“The boches are on the run. And if we don’t drive them clear 
back into Berlin before winter, the general opinion is that such a 
thing will take place next spring.” 

Whereupon Private Evans passing overheard what the sergeant 
said and exclaimed enthusiastically, “Fini la guerre, touie suite.” 

But before leaving the Argonne it became our melancholy duty 
to cover a good portion of the woods hunting for and burying many 
soldiers who had made the supreme sacrifice. 

This closes the first evening. I thank you for your presence and 
kind attention, and hope to see you all again tomorrow night. 


EVENING TWO 
The Story of a Sky Pilot 


IX. 

THE SUPREME SACRIFICE 


“Weep not for death! 

The fount of tears is sealed, 

Who knows how bright the inward light 
To those closed eyes revealed? 

Who knows what holy love may fill 

The heart that seems so cold and still?” 

—SELECTED 






MILITARY FUNERAL BEHIND THE LINES 











THE SUPREME SACRIFICE 


81 


THE very first morning after our move to the woods I had my 
first experience at burying soldiers. The first grave was made beside 
the road opposite our camp. The man was dropped from an ambu¬ 
lance, having died on the way from the front. I suppose he had been 
woun'ded with' shapnel, as there was an ugly wound between his 
shoulders, and had bled to death. 

The dead man had belonged to the 313th Infantry of the 79th 
Division, and was from Virginia. He was a brakeman in civilian life, 
and was twenty-five y^ars of age. I took his personal effects amount¬ 
ing to his identification card issued by the Woodmen of the World, 
a note book or two, a ring, knife and forty francs in money—all of 
which I afterwards sent to the personal effects department of the 
A. E. F. Four men dug his grave in the clay, while I prepared him 
for burial. 

Having an extra sheet in my bunk I wrapped the remains cf 
Walter Campbell, for that was his name, first with the sheet then 
with his overcoat. The grave being finished I read a portion of 
scripture, made a talk and had a prayer, then we laid him to rest 
far away from mother and home. 

At the head of the grave we placed a wooden cross on which I 
nailed one of the man’s identification tegs, the other being left about 
his neck according to regulations for burial of soldiers. One of the 
fellows who helped me presented a small U. S. flag which we fastened 
to one of those iron stakes used in building wire entanglements. 
After notifying the lad’s mother of his death and burial I received 
this letter, months afterwards: 

“Luray, Va., 

Oct. 29, 1918.” 

“Mr. 'Muston,” 

“Dear Sir:—Allow us to thank you with our whole heart for your 
kindness to us in this saddest hour of life. Little did we think that 
our dear boy would be buried so far away from home. Oh, how sad 
has this lffe been made by the news of his death. He was such a 
kind, obedient child, always ready to help in time of need. 

“You spoke about his dear soul. If I just knew this morning that 
he was prepared to meet God, but I don’t. He was nearly always 
away from home. How I do wish I had the promise of meeting him 
in heaven! So sad indeed to think about our loved ones going down 
unsaved. But I feel and know that he is in the hands of a true, 
living and just God. Bless His name! 


82 


t( 0 V E R THERE” 

“Dear sir, please allow us to thank you again for your kindness 
toward him and us during these saddest hours of life. We enclose 
our boy’s picture which was taken while he was on the Mexican 
border in 1914. Please write soon to his father and mother.” 

(Signed) “MRS. ANNIE CAMPBELL.” 

I failed to mention that the fallen soldier had a New Testament. 
Nearly all of the men I buried at the front had one. However, this 
fact alone did not insure their preparation for eternity. Nor were 
men saved just because they fought like brave men should, but by 
personal faith in the crucified and risen Savior. There was a case 
though in which a soldier’s life was saved by his bible. He had it in 
his left blouse pocket over his heart. A bullet struck the book, was 
checked, and the man’s life saved. 

That same afternoon we dug a grave beside this one mentioned 
and put away a fine looking fellow from Brooklyn, N. Y. He was 
also an infantryman and had bled to death from shrapnel wound3 in 
the left thigh. He, too, had been set off the ambulance for burial. 
Having informed his relatives I received an answer. You will note 
from some statements made in the letter, that he was a Catholic. 
Of course I knew this beforehand because of his crucifix and Catholic 
bible. 

“Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Nov. 28, 1918.” 

“Lieutenant Wm. H. Muston, 

Chaplain 25th Engineers, 

A. E. F., France.” 

“Dear Sir:—On this Thanksgiving day came the sad news of the 
death and burial of my beloved nephew. 

“With a heart full of grief I extend to you on behalf of his dear 
parents the heartfelt thanks of his dear mother, father, and all the 
family, for your kind services rendered, which will remain indelible 
to the memories of all at home. 

“John was called to the colors on May 26, together with his uncle, 
who is my brother. Both boys were together from childhood up to 
September 22, date of last letter received from John. 

“Brother Alfred was gassed on September 30, of which we learned 
only one week ago from the letter telling of his death on October 20. 
This morning brought us news from brother dated November 4, say¬ 
ing he was on his way back to rejoin his company, and that he was 
very anxious to learn how John came through, for he had heard 


THE SUPREME SACRIFICE 


83 


nothing from him since the drive started on September 26. 

“My dear sir, I want you to know that the dear lad you did so 
much for, and whom the Almighty had chosen to make the supreme 
sacrifice for God, country and home, was from his birth to death a 
Christian boy. He was the pride of his parents and family. Full 
of respect and love for all with whom he came in contact, never 
uttering a harsh word to anybody. He always lived up to and 
cherished the teachings of the Roman Catholic religion. I am certain 
he met his Lord with a pure and clear conscience. 

“It was the fervent prayers of dear ones at home that brought to 
his assistance after death at such a place, one, who so kindly laid 
him To rest'. I hope someday we may be able to do something for 
you, nevertheless your kind deeds will be remembered by the Almighty 
above, whom you are nobly serving on earth. 

“Allow me to ask, kind sir, if it will be possible to have the re¬ 
mains of the beloved John sent home to be buried in the soil of 
America, the country for which he so proudly fought. 

“I will close as I can write no more under the present strain. 
Again thanking you from the depths of my heart, and extending to 
you the grat ful appreciation of all at home. May God’s blessings 
be with you at all times.” 

“Yours very truly,” 

(Signed) “N. A. SCUDERO.” 

As you will note from the date of this latter it was received after 
the signing of the Armistice. This was so because it was several 
weeks before^ I had opportunity to notify relatives, and mail often¬ 
times was weeks and weeks in transit from the States. 

I appreciate this letter very much if it was from a Roman Catholic, 
for I had many friends among them in the army. But I was glad to 
note that John was a good boy, having given his parents no trouble. 
He was certainly a healthy looking fellow. He must have weighed 
not less than one hundred and eighty-five. 

You have noticed this difference in these letters: one of the 
parents was doubtful as to her boy’s preparation for death, the other 
perfectly confident of their lad’s security. Indeed, it must have been 
heart-breaking "for a father and mother to have no assurance of the 
eternal welfare of their soldier boy. On the other hand such assur¬ 
ance must have helped the sorrowing ones to bear their burden. In 
fact nearly all the letters I received from relatives of fallen soldiers 
gave evidence of their sons’ preparation to meet God. I am positive 


84 


“OVER THERE” 

; >1 > ! i- . - * 

of this, that the prayers of consecrated mothers back home reached 
God’s throne and were instrumental in saving many lads. 

Up on the hill near the road I found the body of Walter Tweedale. 
After being wounded he had crawled into a shell hole to die. Evi¬ 
dences showed that he must have lived for a time after being 
wounded. His Testament and some letters from home lay beside 
him. One of These letters was from his mother who had not heard 
from her boy since he landed in France, another from a young lady 
friend in Providence, R. I. Walter likely read these over and over 
again, and took out his Testament, presented by his mother perhaps, 
and read the eternal words of life before death. 

Two of my men helped bury the lad on the roadside. I wrote his 
mother that I found her son in a shell hole, not realizing the con¬ 
clusion she would draw as to the manner of his death. She got the 
impression that her son was blown to pieces by a shell. But as soon 
as I got word of her misunderstanding I quickly wrote her the parti¬ 
culars more in detail, explaining that the boy had been wounded with 
a rille likely in the hands of an enemy sniper. 

During all the days I hunted out the woods for unburied men I 
was disturbed by air-battles, shelling or some other thrill. Once I 
heard something singing through the air, but knew at once that it 
was not a whizzbang. It came down from above. Was right over 
my head. Louder and louder it got, till zip it struck within a few 
yards of me. I waited for further proceedings and hearing nothing 
else determined to find the thing. Soon I picked up a piece of shrap¬ 
nel. I concluded that it had fallen from a bursting anti-aircraft shell, 
for enemy planes were hovering overhead in the clouds, seeking to 
destroy our observation balloons. 

It had been reported to me that there was a man in a thicket 
just north of our camp. I hunted the woods out for him, searching 
all day and until night before finding the body. When I did discover 
ft I was deeply impressed with surroundings as in the case of the one 
found in a shell hole. He was a corporal, Corporal Fred Durbin, of 
311 Machine Gun Batallion. His automatic was gone, but the holster 
remained on his belt. His towel was blood-stained, showing that he 
likely used it to check the flow of blood from his head. His tin hat 
had a hole through it. He may have eaten after being wounded, for 
his rations had been taken out of his pack. I searched him, found 
nothing to tell me who any of his relatives were, but did find some¬ 
thing else. 


THE SUPREME SACRIFICE 


85 


Having gone through all his pockets save an outside blouse pocket, 
1 rammed my hand info that but withdrew it quicker than I had put 
it in. Something in there scared me. I backed off several yards 
and contemplated, while my heart did double time. What was it? 
That’s what I wanted to know. It was something about the size of 
a lemon, though it seemed as big as a football the moment I touched 
it. Being Told by something within that there was danger there I 
backed off still further, and finally turned back to camp to ask for 
a detail of men to assist me. 

The fellows were just finishing mess. The top sergeant learning 
of my need of a burial party supplied me at once. Without stopping 
to eat I conducted the men to the spot where I had received the 
shock described. They soon told me what the thing in the man’s 
pocket was—a hand grenade. The next problem was getting rid 
of the thing without accident or death. 

I thought the grenade should be rembved at once, but the men 
said let it alone and bury it with the body. That didn’t suit me, but 
they said there’d be less danger than if it were removed. So all 
right, we left the weapon alone. 

One of flTe fellows started a hole close to the body. I protested. 
He wanted to know why. I said that the body could never be found 
in the dense thicket. It had taken me all day to discover it. It 
would never be found again. They said, “All right, chaplain, where 
shall we carry him?” I replied by saying, “Put him on the stretcher 
and follow me.” 

After a few yards there was an old trail leading down across the 
ravine, out into the open. There was a newly made cemetery out 
there about a quarter of a mile from the place where we started. 
By now it was dark. We got into the open, but lost our way. Dark 
as Egypt and could not use a light. I led the way, circling round and 
round hunting for the burial place. I had been there several times 
and thought I knew just where it was. 

Finally I said To the men, “There’s no use to go further. We are 
lost.” 

Whereupon one of the fellows replied, “We couldn’t dig a grave in 
the dark .anyway. So let’s go back to camp.” 

Then we left the stretcher, having covered the body with the 
dead man’s overcoat. Getting back safely was our next trouble. 

With much difficulty we proceeded along the edge of the wood, 
till reaching the road where our tents were. I turned in wondering if 


86 


“OVER THERE” 


I had done the right thing by leaving the body unburied out there, 
but it was all we could do. 

Early next morning I took two men and we returned to finish our 
task. Before reaching the body I asked the fellows if either of them 
knew anything about hand grenades. One of them said he did. I 
said, “All right you go over there and get that thing out of the 
corporal’s pocket while we wait here.” 

Seeing that the grenade was removed safely we proceeded to the 
burial place. We had been within a few yards of it the night before 
but knew it not. Here the fellows dug a grave, the sixty-fourth to 
be located there, among which were four Germans. With simple 
ceremony the body was laid to rest to wait the day of the resurrection. 

Thus returning to my dugout, mentioned in previous chapter, I 
began packing my belongings for a trip to Clermont where I rest a 
few days. And, since I had buried all the men possible to find, there 
was nothing left to do. Also as stated above the life in the mud and 
rain had begun to tell on me, leaving me weak in body. I needed 
the change which worked marvelously. 

Notwithstanding the fact that I went miles and miles from the 
front, this "did not prohibit Fritz from giving us trouble. While resting 
up we are entertained wiih air-raids. 


“Four things a man must learn to do 
If he would make his record true: 

To think without confusion clearly; 

To love his fellow-men sincerely; 

To act from honest motives purely; 

To trust in God and heaven securely.” 

—HENRY VAN DYKE. 


X. 

RAIDED IN CAMP AND VILLAGE 


“Dangers are no more light, if they once seem light; 
for more dangers have deceived men than forced 
them: nay, it were better to meet some dangers 
half way, though they come nothing near, than to 
keep too long a watch upon their approaches; for if 
man watch too long, it is odds that he will fall 
asleep.” 

—BACON 


87 






LIGHT PLANE BROUGHT DOWN BY YANKS 






RAIDED IN CAMP AND VILLAGE 89 

STARTING early I went down by truck to Clermont, the railhead 
where we landed when first going up. This village was badly torn 
by shell-fire, and seemed to be well spotted by the enemy for shelling 
and air-raids were frequent occurrences. 

Arriving, I found there was no place for my bunk except an old 
stable in the side of the hill. This I cleaned up myself, placed my 
bedding on a French made cot and prepared to live comfortably. This 
cot was of the “built in” type, being fastened to the wall, with a pair 
of very fine springs—a piece of heavily woven wire used for such 
purpose. There was little spring to it but after placing a bale of hay 
under my bedding it mad 3 a comfortable place to sleep. Of course 
I scattered the hay out since a bale unbroken would be rather hard 
to rest on. 

Next day I finished equipping my new quarters. From a dump 
pile I got a stove. It was one of those the French used and had 
neither door, nor pipe for the smoke. Was made of iron about the 
shape and size of a four gallon bucket; had holes all around the sides 
to give it draft, and was set on three legs. Of course it smoked! 
But that was a small matter. Had to have a little fire to heat water 
for bath, if for no other reason. 

Heating a bucket of water on this wonderful stove I took my 
first bath on foreign soil, then took a severe cold. Every time there 
after I took a bath I took a cold. I had two colds while in France! 

The eats at the supply dump were grand. They had a cook there 
who could make the best hot cakes mortal man ever enjoyed eating. 
With plenty butter and good syrup we surely did hide the dough! 
We had the best of everything. This was because we got the first 
pick. The supplies first landed at Clermont for distribution to all our 
companies. So far ahead of all other eating places was ours that 
truck drivers often went many miles out of the way to eat with us. 
So good was the chow that I soon began to improve and was ready 
within a week to return to my duties at the front. 

But before going back I took a run down to Void where regimental 
headquarters were for the time being. It was about thirty-five miles 
to the southeast, over toward Metz. We had to go through much 
territory once occupied by the enemy. While shell holes were not 
so numerous barbed wire entanglements, trenches and dugouts dotted 
almost every hillside. But the roads were good. And they had a 
right to be since the boys were kept “making little ones out of big 
ones” all the time. This was an expression for beating rock to be 


“OVER THERE” 


90 

used on the roads. The French seemed to have no rock crushers; 
instead they used long handled hammers. This, I suppose, was to 
give plenty work for all the men who had to work the roads. 

Headquarters Tellows seemed glad to see me, so glad that they 
would not let me bunk with them in the barn, but found me a bed 
in a French home. Such a bed! It had been weeks since I had 
slept in a real bed. It had good springs, nice covers and a feather 
bed to cover with. Yes, they cover with the feather bed. They are 
made for that purpose. Not so heavy as you have slept on, but lighter 
and shorter. I got three nights of real sleeping before returning 
to camp. 

We ate in an old barn with some unsanitary surroundings. But 
what we had to eat certainly was delicious. The coffee was the best 
I ever drank. Since I had not learned to like cognac, and could 
hardly stand the chlorinated water, I took to coffee. 

Having secured all the stationery and news papers the Y. M. C. A., 
K. C. and Salvation Army would let me carry off, I prepared to make 
my return on Sunday afternoon. We had a sloppy time and did not 
get in until after dark. 

The main reason for our delay was Ford trouble. We had it all 
from running out of gasoline to blowouts. Water was easily obtained, 
but gasoline not so easy. Had we been on the front gas would have 
been plentiful; but gas of the wrong kind for Fords. The oth rs 
were officers all experienced at cussing. I say all; I believe the 
young second “lewie,” whose name I forgot, was not a cusser. Nor 
had I taken up the habit since going into the army. 

We had a grand and glorious time pumping up tires, .hunting for 
gas, and pulling out of mud holes. The other fellows said it was all 
because I was along; I accused them of being to blame because they 
cussed so much. Anyway, after hours of such travel we arrived back 
in Clermont, and I made ready to turn in. 

Another fellow had got my hut, so the captain asked me to place 
my bunk in his shack for the night. This I did and prepared to jump 
under cover. The captain and I had just covered up when the whole 
fire works of the German air service seemed to open up right over 
town. I jumped straight up and sat as still as death. The captain 
raised up and asked calmly, “What’s that?” 

Presently shrapnel began to fall on the roof. For that reason 
we hesitated about getting outside to the dugout. Such noise! The 
put, put, put of machine guns, the roar of anti-aircraft pieces, and 


RAIDED IN CAMP AND VILLAGE 


91 


the occasinoal “SPOW” of a bursting shell dropped from above, made 
things lively around there for a few minutes. Between guns you could 
hear the buzz of a bombing plane, and could even see it, the moonlight 

f , 

being so bright. 

They always picked a bright night to pull off air-raides. We soon 
learned when to expect such excitement. When it was cloudy we 
slept with ease. When it was moonlight we were a bit nervous. 
And since they had had a raid one night while I was away at Void, 
I thought nothing of one so soon afterwards. 

But back to the disturbance proper. I don’t know how long it 
was kepT up. Seemed like an hour, but I think it wasn’t. The cap¬ 
tain and I finally decided to beat it to the dugout under the hill. 
But by the time we reached safety the trouble had ceased. Thinking 
that one of the bombs must have struck mighty close our camp, some 
of the men went out to investigate. Upon returning they reported 
that one had struck the railroad and had torn it up. That was get¬ 
ting pretty close. 

At breakfast the fellows were joking one of their number they 
called John. John was an Englishman who slept in his shelter half 
on top the hill. They said he was heard yelling while the bombing 
took place, “Where’s the chaplain? Where’s the chaplain?” They 
told it on him that he was so scared he knew not what he was doing. 
But John said Ee was concerned about my welfare. 

Day after the raid I moved my belongings over to Vraincourt, not 
so much because of the previous night’s excitement, oh no, but be¬ 
cause regimental headquarters were being moved there. This village 
was badly shot up but enough houses left intact to furnish quarters 
for the company. As stated before it was the place where several 
Americans were killed and wounded soon after we passed through 
on our way up in the trucks. 

My room was on the ground floor this time. Like all French 
homes it was furnished with grate for fire, and, well, that was about 
all. Everything else had been taken out or destroyed. But I had my 
cot and trunk and desk. That was enough, when a man had to 
move. 

I forgot to tell you about my desk. That I made while over at 
Clermont. I took a goods box two feet by four feet, made a folding 
table or desk for the upper part, while the lower half was covered 
permanently. On the bottom I placed folding legs, while in the top 
portion 1 placed pigeon holes. The bottom part was used to hold 


92 


“OVER THERE” 


my typewriter, stationery, and sometimes I crammed some of my 
clothes in there. This desk I carried everywhere until I got to the 
port coming home. By that time 1 had acquired an extra trunk there¬ 
fore was not able to “smuggle” my desk through. I wish I had it now. 

In the room with me were Captain Judson, the colonel’s adjutant; 
Captain Hatch, an old fellow who by the way was a fine scout; 
another offcer or two whose names I have forgotten. While in Vrain- 
court I bunked with these men, but was not there every night. In 
fact for a week at a time I stayed away with first one company and 
then another. We now go back to the front, up in the Argonne. 

While going back that day with a truck driver we passed through 
No Man’s Land once more. We had just had a big rain. The 
trenches were about full of water. I noticed a couple of good hats 
floating. I said to the driver, “Wait while I pick us up a hat apiece.” 
I noticed he smiled rather synically, but said nothing. I got out to 
get our hats. 

Getting one in each hand I began lifting them out, but was 
shocked at these words, “What the h-do you mean up there?” 

There were men under the hats! 

Of course it was not quite that bad, but bad enough. Really I 
saw only a little water in the trenches, and the mud was not a waist 
deep. However there was plenty of mud. To avoid that duckboards 
were used in the bottom of the trenches. Whoever invented the duck- 
board did something that helped win the war. Thy were made of 
slats nailed crosswise on two runners, and were to walk on, but I 
slept on them as well. 

You know the World War was a cruel old war. Not only did they 
fight on the land and water but in the air as well. Those air machines 
are something awful, especially the bombing planes. Those were 
very large and carried torpedoes underneath which were released at 
the proper moment. They fell straight down and tore up everything 
they hit. 

To combat the enemy in the air anit-aircraft guns were devised. 
These shot time-bombs into the air at enemy aircraft. Machine guns 
were also used to fight the planes with. But to watch a battle waged 
by the anti-aircraft guns was no little excitement. Oftentimes, and 
most always I suppose, they did little damage to the enemy craft, 
but you should have seen those birds move away when shells began 
to burst. Higher and higher they flew till out of dagger. When 
an air battle of this description was on you could hear the shells 



RAIDED IN CAMP AND VILLAGE 


93 


explode so far away, and see little patches of black smoke bedecking 
the heavens like a thousand crows flying together. 

All the planes were not bombers. The light ones were fighters, 
or carried cameras for taking pictures of enemy movements. And by 
these we were constantly being disturbed. Hardly a day passed with¬ 
out some kind of a stunt being pulled off in the air, many times 
right over our heads. While moonlight nights were picked for night 
raides, a cloudy day was chosen for day movements. The light 
planes could stay above the clouds till something below was spied, 
such as balloons or allied planes. A battle between a German light 
plane and balloons I will now relate. 

1 had gone back into the woods to see how my men were fareing, 
and had been to the cemetery again where we buried the corporal 
and others. While returning to camp alone I saw an interesting per¬ 
formance. It was a cloudy day, and the balloon men had already had 
trouble with a certain young rascal which they afterwards got. From 
the cemetery 1 had witnessed several balloons drawn down on account 
of this enemy. One had been set on fire already. By the time I 
reached the edge of the woods the trouble was renewed. As quick 
as lightning a German plane swooped out of the clouds right over one 
of Those observers. I began to think he would strike the ground, he 
came so straight down, and so close to the balloon before rising. The 
observer jumped into mid-air in his parachute, while the crew at¬ 
tempted to haul down the mammoth gas bag. But she had already 
caught fire. Amid the rapid fire of anti-aircraft the young German 
had kept dropping until he saw his purpose was accomplished, then 
tried To get away. But this time he had been too daring for that. 
His machine had been hit in a vital spot; he must come down. So 
circling a time or two he began to fall, but managed to make a safe 
landing only a hundred yards from the burning balloon. Hurriedly 
a number of soldiers gathered around to take their priosner who was 
a young German about twenty years of age. Some wanted to shoot 
him on the spot, but the officer in charge prevented this rash action. 

At another time an enemy spy escaped only “by the skin of his 
teeth?’ He had ventured behind the lines to be discovered by a brave 
American flyer. Before Fritz realized what was happening the Yank 
dropped out of the clouds and began the chase. They were west 
of camp and were headed our way. The race was on with Fritz in 
the lead beating it toward home, while the Yank brought up the rear 
pumping his machine gun with all his might. Over our heads at a 


94 


“OVER THERE” 

low altitude they whizzed and thundered. Fritz seemed to realize his 
danger so ceased firing and “stepped on the gas.” After a very close 
shave he escaped, but I do not understand how he did it. The lead 
flew all through his machine, as indicated by the red hot “tracers 
every few shots. But like a flying bird, I suppose, a plane is hard to 
hit; at least hard to hit in a vital spot. 

By this time the companies of the 25th engineers were well scat¬ 
tered over the Argcnne covering mil s and miles of territory. My 
problem now was to serve all these units. I could hardly do it with¬ 
out transportation. I wished for my Ford I left back home. But 
the colonel told me I could get all the transportation I needed if I 
would take up my headquarters with the regimental headquarters at 
Vraincourt. This I quickly decided to do. 


Don’t pra'e about what is your right, 

But bare your fists and show your might; 
Life is another man to fight 
Catch as catch can. 

Don’t talk of Life as scurvy Fate, 

Who gave you favors just too late, 

Or Luck who thr w you smiles for bait 
Before he ran. 

Don’t wliinc and wish hat you were dead, 
But wrestle for your daily bread, 

And afterward let it be said 
“He was a man.” 


- JANE M’LEAN. 


- V i TfT 



HELPING THE MEN CARRY ON 

i ' . . * 



“Let m 3 but do my work from day to day, 

In field or forest, at the desk or looin, 

In roaring market-place or tranquil room; 

Let me but find it in my heart to say, 

When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, 

‘This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; 

Of all who live, I am the one by whom 
This work can best be done in the right way!” 

—HENRY VAN DYKE 


{ 

i 

l 








fc> 


CAMP-LIFE SCENES OVER THERE 



















HELPING THE MEN CARRY ON 


97 


VRAINCOURT was hardly a mile from Clermont, the railhead 
where we had the air-raid a few nights before. Having left my be¬ 
longings at the former place in an old chateau as I proceeded on my 
way to the front, I now returned to take up my headquarters there. 

Besides the H. Q. company of the 25th Engineers, the 21st Engi¬ 
neers had its headquarters here, as well as some other units. In all 
there were six or seven hundred men stationed in the little village. 

The first Sunday I attended service in the ”Y” hut, and preached 
there myself that nigh*. The shack was packed. After the fellows 
sang awhile I spoke to them on “The Christian Soldier,” while the 
guns constantly roared in the distance. The men were all attentive, 
many of them manifesting concern in themselves by asking for 
prayer at the close. Several other times after this I had the pleasure 
c*’ speaking in the same hut, also in the company mess kitchen to 
our men alone. 

This kitchen was a long room on one side of a bam, being walled 
with rock and' covered with tiles. Really it was arranged for a kind 
of^hanging out” place, having long tables and a stove. But on ac¬ 
count of inclement weather was used also to eat in. 

On Monday I rode a wheel over to Clermont to get my mail—if I 
had any. And I did; two letters from the same person back at home. 
What a joy! I never appreciated letters so much in my life as I did 
while overseas. 

While in Clermont I had a long talk with Chaplain Kerr of the 
807 Pioneer Regiment. A few days before he had landed in the night¬ 
time with his troops and came out to my shack to find a place to 
sleep. Our captain being out that night I loaned his bunk to the 
“Pilot.” 

Since my men were scattered badly I had quite a problem serving 
them all. But I began by going to Epicourt frequently after station¬ 
ery and papers. By the truck loads my driver Fred and I hauled 
this stuff from the “Y” dump, carrying it to headquarters and distrib¬ 
uting to the different companies which were at Verdun, Montfaucon 
and other places on the front. 

I remeber well the first trip I took to Epicourt. The “Y” man 

was friendly enough but wanted to limit me to a few dozen magazines 

and a small box of stationery. Of course there were many others to 

supply, but I had driven thirty miles for that stuff—so I must have 

it. I said to the fellow: 

♦ 


98 


“OVER THERE” 

“Look here, mister. My outfit has been up two months and none 
6f us have seen “hair nor hide” of your Y. M. C. A. All my men 
have got I had to haul it to them. Besides it’s a long, wet drive 
down here to go back empty. Can’t you open up your heart and fill 
my truck?” 

After this plea he gave me a few more sacks of papers, and a 
sack of a’hletic goods—boxing gloves, baseballs and bats, volley and 
basket balls, etc. 

The fellows literally devoured every piece of reading matter I 
carried th m. They were simply hungry for this stuff. Letters! I 
never saw the like! I mean out-going ones. They kept me up late 
every night censoring for them. 

One other thing the fellows needed they were not getting. That 
was entertainment. Who would furnish it? I knew little about how 
to do it. In fact if I had not secured a light movie machine I could 
never have helped the situation a bit. What was I to do? 

There were two problems confronting me. One Was I was a 
“preacher.” Could I afford to mix with such business. The other, 
where could I get the machine? 

Well, it took me about one minute to solve the first mystery. I 
was not a “preacher” any longer. While I did preach several times 
weekly, there were a score of other duties to perform during the 
week. One of these was the entertainment problem. In the states 
it would not have worried me, as it would have been taken care of 
by others. But at the front the “Sky Pilot” had to'do it, if it 
were done. So you see I was the whole “cheese.” 

Having learned that the “Y” had some machines at Epicourt I 
put in an order for my truck and driver. We motored down ther 3 
for the movie outfit. 

Sure enough they had a bunch of machines about the shape of a 
Neostyle Duplicating Machine in its cover, but longer and heavier. 
For a light they used a battery. Thus for one of these I placed my 
order. 

The entertainment officer told me he was afraid I would have 
trouble with the “dinkie” as they had not proved successful. Told 
me he would book us for a program by their operator. This I allowed 
him to do ,but told him I would be back in a few days for the machine, 
since it needed repairing. But we did not return empty. Took 


HELPING THE MEN CARRY ON 


99 


another load of papers, also chocolates and “smokes” the fellows had 
sent for. 

After a few days my driver and I went back for the movi3 outfits 
It was a handy trick. We carried for the first program a four reel 
drama of some kind, and a one reel comedy. That was all I could 
get. But I made good use of it before returning; showed it to- 
nearly all the compani s up in the woods. Then going back after 
another set of reels repeated the rounds over and over. 

Stationed aFVraincourt was our regimental infirmary. From a few 
to fifteen and twenty sick men were there continually. They were 
cases too light for hospitalization but which needed medical attention 
just the same. To these men thus shut in I gave a show frequently 
in the room where they lived. Of course it was a help to them, 
bringing a change and amusement to while way the dreary hours. 

Two of my companies, B and C were stationed in Camp Souilly, 
a few miles east of the “Y” dump where I got my supplies. Going 
down by Ford truck, I stopped at the “Y,” took on a load of stuff 
and a new set of reels. I found the companies very well cared for 
as there was a canteen over there, but after all so many soldiers 
were station d at SouiTy my men had a slim chance at the benefits 
of it. When I looked in on the mob in that hut I thought of the 
story you’ve heard got off on some preachers staying over night at 
a home. 

The brother’s home was headquarters for all the preachers. On 
this particular night there were four or five present around the fire¬ 
side. The mother had told Jim to fill the wood box, then she 
busied herself about other things. When the fire had burned down 
and the brethren were getting cold dad started for the wood but 
found none in the house. When this fact became known to the mother 
she spoke sharply: 

“Didn’t I tell you to bring in the wood, Jim?” 

“Yes; but you’ve got to make John help me,” returned Jim sharply. 

“Why, Jimmy,” interrupted one of the preachers. “Don’t you know 
you’ll go to torment for such rudeness?” 

Whereupon Jim replied rather cuttingly, “Yes; if I do there’ll be 
so many preachers there I can’t get to the fire.” 

So it was in that hut. I had never seen so many men in so small 
a place in my life. I could not even enter the door, much less get 
to the fire. 


100 


“OVER THERE” 


Since Souilly had suffered severely from air-raids earlier in the 
fight, there were many dugouts among the barracks of the camp. In 
fact those underground apartments seemed to bo as thick as praiiue 
dog holes out in West Texas. Few houses were left standing, but as 
mentioned above barracks had been erected to house our men, the 
dugouts rarely ever being used at this late stage of the war. 

After two days hanging around the muddy camp I crawled into 
the flivver and beat it back to H. Q., going by way of Clermont. 
Here I ate another fine dinner of mashed potatoes, rice, brown biscuits 
steak and gravy—the best in the A. E. F. This was true for the 
simple reason that they had the finest cook there. He could prepare 
to your entire satisfaction, not only the delicious diets mentioned, but 
was able to produce from dough and flat top camp stove, the most 
exquisite hot cakes mortal man ever had set before him. That cook 
simply knew how to feed hungry soldiers a square meal, and he 
could do ft without pork and beans or canned “wooly”, either. 

In the afternoon I walked out over the hills about Clermont and 
was particularly struck by the change that had come over the foliage 
of the forests. Though early in the fall the first brown tints of 
autumn were beginning to fall silently uf)6n mother earth. A beau¬ 
tiful sight to behold! And yet barbed wire entanglements, shell holes 
and wrecked buildings cast a gloom of sadness over the whole scenery. 
As I climbed over the hill above the village and “took a peep” on the 
other side there was another sad scene. The beautiful valley which, 
a short time ago, had been cut up into small fields, was now cut to 
pieces with shell craters. The little orchard at the foot of the hill 
was wrecked and ruined forever. Where the farmers were, who had 
once made an honest living on these farms, nobody knows. Some of 
them had been killed in the fight; some were old men and women 
driven from the fireside to disappointment and suffering back in some 
village far from the front. Eut such is a faint picture of the war- 
torn areas of France. 

Going back to camp for my evening meal I announced to the men 
that I would give them a few reels of Charlie Chaplain that nigV, 
which announcement was received with enthusiasm, since I had not 
showed them before. Then, when the program was over, I fe’t moro 
than paid for my efforts at furnishing the fellows a little amuse¬ 
ment, for they spoke kind words of appreciation. 

Possibly a little explaining concerning my conviction of the movie 
business would not be amiss here. You will understand that the 


HELPING THE MEN CARRY ON 


101 


army life, especially at the front, presented many problems. As 
stated before the soldier over there needed entertainment as well as 
other things. When the war closed, and in fact in the S. O. S. at 
all times, the different military units generally had entertainment 
troupes of their own. But of course it was different at the front. 
Now, personally, I have no words of praise for the picture show busi¬ 
ness. On the whole I think it a detriment to the morals and safety 
of our youth, however many may be the good plays that are released. 
Of course we all know the right kind of picture show under the proper 
environment is a benefit. For instance, as an educational asset tlra 
movie machine is invaluable. It was used to great advantage in this 
way, as well as for entertainment, during the whole of the war. But 
I am satisfied at not being in the show business now. 

Returning to H. Q. I decided to make another round to see the 
companies on the firing line. The night before going, the whole 
allied artillery, and maybe German too, seemed to turn loose all night 
long. I was about to decide not to go just yet, but the lieutenant 
with whom I had arranged to go to 1 d me that he would be ready to 
start soon after noon. Therefore I would not pike. 

Going down to mess kitchen at the regular time I fell in line as 
usual, and this time on account of the rare sunshine, sat down on 
a little knoll outside to eat. Close by me was one of the men who 
worked in the office, a very bright fellow and a graduate of Yale. 
Exchanging but a few words I had finished and was about to leave 
him, but before doing so I felt that my friend was troubled about 
som thing, so asked him what he was thinking about. Whereupon 
he re’ated the following story: 

“I am troubled about the way matters have gone back home. The 
girl I thought the world of, a young woman well educated and in 
easy financial circumstances, the social belle of her town, has given 
me up. Just had a letter telling me that she was going to marry 
another man. I am disappointed; my hopes seem to be gone; I 
never want to return to that place again.” 

Then after a few moments pause he continued: “But there’s 

another, a poor girl, I used to think a lot of, and she seemed to think 
I was the only fellow for her. Maybe it was providential that the 
other girl didn’t wait on me to return home. What do you think 
about it, chaplain?” 

“Well,” said I, “this is what I think. A girl who couldn’t wait a 
few months on me while I was fighting for the great principles we 


102 


“OVER THERE” 


are over here for, could marry whomsoever she pleased. I hope it’s 
all for the best myself, old fellow. You go back and tie onto the poor 
girl. Chances are that she will make you a good wife. The other 
one would likely have been a disappointment to you.” 

My friend thanked me and said that he guessed he would take 
my advice, especially if the little girl he first loved would have him. 

Now, seeing the Ford we were to make our trip in driving up, 
I hurriedly walked out to the road and crawled in. The driver struck 
a twenty-mile gait and we were soon up in the woods where comp¬ 
anies A, C, D and F were located. 

Taking my machine along I gave shows where I could, and held 
services for each company. Some of the units had no barracks, only 
their pup tents, so there was no show for them. But werever I could 
get a few fellows together under the cloudy dome of heaven in the 
woods, I did the best I could to hold a service and do all the good 
possible. 

Upon arriving at company A I learned that our men had gone for¬ 
ward five miles over a thirty mile front that very morning, and that 
3,000 prisoners had been captured following the barrage. How good 
it sounded to us all! That is, the news sounded good; not the burst¬ 
ing shells. 

With company A I stayed several nights enjoying the hospitality 
of the officers and men. And when Sunday night rolled around I 
went to the hilltop to have a service. Went from barrack to barrack 
announcing to the fellows that I was going to lead them in a song 
service and do some preaching in a certain shack. Once I ran into 
a crap game, but the men said they would quit long enough to hear 
me preach since they had not heard any preaching in a long time. 

The service over 1 “slid” down the muddy bank to my hut, but 
found upon my arrival that I had lost my watch, a good Elgin at that. 
I never found it. If anybody else didn’t, it is buried beneath French 
soil. 


XII. 

ARMY WELFARE WORK 


“I do now know what I shall find out beyond the 
final fight; 

I do not know what I shall meet beyond the last 
barrage of night; 

Nor do I care—but this I know—if I but serve 
within the fold 

And play the game—I’ll be prepared for all the 
endless years may hold.” 

—GRANTLAND RICE 




103 


*l. 



f ** 



SALVATION ARMY GIRLS AT THE FRONT 




ARMY WELFARE WORK 


105 


ONE would scarcely think it possible that a young man should 
have reached the voting age in the great enlightened state of Illinois 
and never have h' ard of the Lord’s Prayer, or the Bible. 

It happened in one of the Texas training camps, The soldiers 
crowded into the nearest Y. M. C. A. building after retreat to buy 
stamps for the letters addressed to their mothers and sweethearts, 
to have packages weighed, to draw out books from the library and 
to play checkers or otherwise to spend their off-duty hours. ’Ihey 
crowded along the front of the counter three and four deep, keeping 
the five secretaries in that building busy answering their questions 
and supplying their wants. 

“What are these little books?” asked a soldier of the secretary 
who had just given him seme wri ing materail. He pointed to the 
little pile of New Testaments on the table. 

“Those are copies of the New Testament,” answered the “Y” sec¬ 
retary. “You may have a copy if you promise to read it, and give 
us your name.” 

“What’s a New Testament?” asked the soldier. 

“Don’t you know what a New Testament is,” answered the secre¬ 
tary in surprise. “It is part of the Bible, and tells about Jesus Christ 
and has in it the Lord’s Prayer.” 

“What is the Lord’s Prayer?” asked the youth simply. 

Though the soldiers crowded about the counter, the “Y” secretary 
realized that attending the inquiring soldier was of more importance 
than doing the detail work at that point. He spoke to one of his 
associates behind the counter, then asked the soldier to go with him 
into one of the small rooms adjoining. 

“Do you mean to tell me that you never heard of the Lord’s 
Prayer?” asked the secretary smpathetically, after both had seated 
themselves. 

“I never did.” 

“Where have you lived?” 

“In Illinois.” 

“Did you ever go to church?” 

“Yes. I went inside of a church about three times in my life, but 
each time I went my father gave me such a whipping that I learned 
to stay away.” 

The conversation continued and the “Y” secretary read some of the 
passages of the Bible and told the sweet story of “Jesus and His 
love” with such good effect that the boy evinced a desire to know more 


106 


“OVER THERE” 




about it. It resulted in both getting down upon their knees and 
praying about it. The soldier left with a copy of the New Testament 
in his blouse and promised to join one of the Bible classes which the 
religious work director of the hut was promoting with the help of 
some other secretaries. 

This is one of the thousands Of instances where soldiers were 
helped by the welfare work of the army. This work was valuable 
to the soldier not only from a religious standpoint, but from edu¬ 
cational, social and other standpoints as well. 

The World War was different from all others previous. The sol¬ 
dier was trained diffently, given every reasonable adavantage, pro¬ 
tected from threatening disease and given a chance to better his con¬ 
dition while in the service. This was made possible by the aid of 
the welfare organizations whch the government allowed to enter the 
war. They all did good "work, though many mistakes were made, and 
there was somewhat of an overlapping of the work of the organi¬ 
zations themselves. 

Besides the Y. M. C. A., the K. C. and Salvation Army operated 
wherever there was a camp, or, as it -was overseas up in the woods 
and in the villages close to the battle-fronts. The work of all was 
religious, educational, amusement and social welfare. In this respect 
they overlapped each other. 

It seems to me if all this work could have been done under the 
supervision of one main head or organization it would have been bet¬ 
ter economy, and possibly brought forth better results. For instance, 
in the camps overseas, as well as over here, all three of these organi¬ 
zations had huts, services, secretaries and workers. There was the 
Y canteen, the K. C. canteen, the Salvation Army canteen, all in 
nearly every little village in France. As in the case of many there 
were not enough soldiers in the place to justify more than one of these. 
However the Salvation Army had fewer huts and canteens overseas 
than did the others, but they possibly did better service at the front. 
That is, the soldier thinks so. 

I suppose this is true because the Salvationists first sent their 
girls to the front to make doughnuts for the fellows. Then they 
wouldn t let the ladies go back, but provided sleeping quarters for 
them just behind the lines. It all came about in this way. 

The huts and canteen service was something new to the world 
in the great war. They were not by any means exclusively instru¬ 
ments of the welfare work. With France and Belgium disrupted and 


ARMY WELFARE WORK 


107 


torn when the United States entered the war, the problem of housing 
the represenstatives, the organizations near camps and along the bat¬ 
tle-line became a serious one. Both the huts and canteen service 
were born of necessity. 

Light on how ncessity developed a hut is revealed by the little 
story of the Salvation Army doughnut. Part of the first delegation 
of the Salvationists to go abroad from America was composed of 
women. They established their headquarters at Ligna and Barroic, 
below Toul. This was the center of an operation at the time, and 
the women were taken to the front to do home cooking for the sol¬ 
diers. Using the cover of a shaving stick for a punch they cut 
delicious doughnues. When it was announced, after the doughnuts 
had been previously devoured, that the women would return to their 
sleeping quarters, the men rose up in protest, and finally the women 
decided that they would stay, and rough it just as the men were 
doing. They were provided with a hut at once, and this hut became 
the center for real home doughnuts, one young woman making in 
one day as many as i,500 of the luscious reminders of home. 

In the canteens supplies were carried which supplemented the 
regular allowance of the military authorities so completely that the 
ordinary private could live in comparative luxury, if he was prepared 
to meet the actual cost of the stock carried on hand. The commander 
of each troop train had a little booklet in which were the names of 
the stations at which canteens were situated, and this information 
was available to the men at all times. They could find out at any 
time the nearest canteen, and avail themselves of that service. Writ¬ 
ing paper was furnished the men free at the canteens of the various 
associations, and they were entertained with moving pictures, 
“dances” and singing. 

The workers of the Salvation Army were quickly trained in first 
aid before going into the service so that they could fit into a breach 
for service at the front. Both men and women went forward with 
the fighters, and proved their mettle m a way to win the honor and 
respect of the fighters. At the most dangerous points on the firing 
line there were the “lads and lassies” of the army of love standing 
shoulder to shoulder with the fighting men, handing our 1 hot coffee 
and chocolate at all hours of the night, to say nothing of the dough¬ 
nuts. The Salvation Army, as well as the “Y,” also served as a 
medium for remiffing money to the home folks from the soldier. 

The work of the Army was the work of true democracy, as no 


108 


“OVER THERE” 


distinction was made between the officers and enlisted men. In fact 
there was little distinction between officers and men at the front 
anyway. You would rarely know the difference, especially at any 
distance off. So the Army served all alike. One army officer says. 

“As a body it is taking chances which the members of no other 
organization are taking. One building it occupied had the roof blown 
off by a German shell. The Salvation Army folks draped tent canvas 
over the walls and continued their work. While they were si epmg 
in the cellar several more shells struck the building, and smashed 
all their equipment beyond repair. This was not 200 yards from our 
front trenches, and the Salvationists continued their work through 
shot and shell. 

“One night I was sitting in the door of the Salvation Army hut 
when a shell hit a house next door and killed three of our boys as 
they slept. The Army women continued dishing out hot cocoa and . 
coffee as if nothing had happened. They are game, those women, 
God bless them. They are regular women, of the same breed, as the 
mother of Abraham Lincoln and the wives of our western pioneers.” 

None of the civilian organizations at the front more completely won 
the hearts of the soldiers than the Salvation Army. To say this is 
not to disparage in any way its friendly rivals in good works. It took 
upon itself functions which brought it in close relation with the men 
who were actually in the fighting line. Its serveies were off red at a 
time when any service was peculiarly grateful. Every soldier who 
came back had the same story t:o tell—a story of willing help in the 
face of danger, of cheerful courage, of unwearying self-sacrifice. 

Certainly there were Y. M. C. A. and K. C. workers at the front, 
or near the front, but not on the job all the time as the Salvation 
Army people. While the Army operated mostly close up* these 
o;ihers set up huts in the S. O. S. and went to the front off and on. 
But many of the soldiers said they never saw any “Y” or K. C. men 
up there, and I recall myself, though my outfit was not in front line 
trenches, that I never saw any of these fellows in the woods. 

Of course there was plenty of criticism on the “Y.” A great deal 
of it was unjust/. Since many men were entering various lines of 
work, it . was natural that some of them would not be of the highest 
type of character. Some of them were lazy, some base, and quite 
a few really indifferent to the soldier’s welfare, and many were hard¬ 
ened sinners. Dr. M. E. Hudson tells about some of them who were 
)n board ship as he crossed over with the “Y” workers. Every at- 


ARMY WELFARE WORK 


109 


tempt that the preacher made to have services aboard ship was 
hampered by a set of infidels. Numerous stories came to me over 
there concerning“Y” secretaries who lived in adultery. But of course 
these cases must have been few compared with the many thousands 
in the service who were real men and women. 

Concerning the K. C., let me say that my observation was that 
whilo the Salvation Army and Y. M. C. A. huts were filled with men, 
there were not so many around the K. C. huts. I had quite an ex¬ 
perience holding service in a K. C. hut at Brest. I was sent over 
there by the port religious secretary, and so proceeded somewhat 
like this: 

I went in, found the K. C. secretaries washing their clothes. Told 
them what I had come for. One of them went out to the front of 
the building where the canteen was located and told the fellows to 
quit their smoking and come into service. The few men standing 
around soon scattered. And I couldn’t blame them, after hearing the 
gruff voice of the secretary telling the fellows to quU smoking. If 
he had politely invited them in to service they would have come in, 
the smoking would have taken care of itself. They had manners 
enough to throw their cigarettes away upon entering a religious ser¬ 
vice. I waited and waited while talking with two or three msn who 
were already at the front. The K. C. man went back to the rear. 
Finally some of the fellows came in and we began our service by 
singing. Whilj I was talking this “wise” secretary walked back and 
forth through the building, attracting all the attention he could. 
When I returned to headquarters I told the “Y” man not ever to send 
me to that hut again to hold a service. 

Speaking of the different welfare organizations under which men 
went to serve overseas, I do not understand why so many good 
preachers entered that way. The army was calling for chaplains at 
all times, and at the time I entered the work, nearly all who got 
their commissions at the camp were sent over there. Of course 
there were certain age and educational qualifications as set forth by 
the army, which perhaps some could not make. But as I see it the 
army should have been supplied with enough “Sky Pilots” to carry 
on the religious work among the soldiers, leaving the canteen and 
hut work for the welfare workers, provided the government did not 
see fit to take over that branch of the service itself. Finally, after 
the Armistice the army did take over the canteen work, which 
proved to be very successful. But the chaplain had no small job, 


“OVER THERE” 


110 

* 

find though the rule was to supply each regiment with three, I was 
the only one with the 25th Engineers at the front. Therefore my 
duties were many and my services limited because of the many men 
to serve. 

One could not have the interest of his men at heart and take his 
duty lightly. A case where a preacher failed to be appointed, be¬ 
cause he was not ready to meet an emergency, is reported by J. Wil¬ 
bur Chapman, in “The Minister’s Handicap.” 

The preacher made application to Bishop Taylor-Smith, chaplain 
general of the British army, to enter the service as “Sky Pilot.” 
Since the Bishop was of the same religious faith as he, his hopes of 
getting the commission were bright. The Bishop looked intently at 
the applicant for a moment, th n taking his watch from his pocket 
said, “I am a dying soldier on the battlefield—I have three minutes 
to live—what have you to say to me?” 

The clergyman was confused and said nothing. 

Then the Bishop said, “I have two minutes tb live—what can you 
tell me to help my soul?” And still the waiting clergyman made no 
response. Then said the Bishop solemnly, “I have only one minute 
to live.” 

With that the preacher reached for his prayer book, but the 
Bishop said, “No, not that at such a tlime as this,” and because the 
clergyman had nothing to say to the dying soldier upon the battlefield, 
he did not receive appointment. 

After a few days service at H. Q. I, with some other soldiers, 
made my first trip to the “Underground City.” 


XIII. 

VERDUN: “ILS NE PASSERONT!” 


“More than half beaten, but fearless 
Facing the storm and the night; 
Breathless and reeling but tearless, 
Here in the lull of the fight, 

I who bow not but before thee, 

God of the fighting Clan, 

Lifting my fists, I implore Thee, 
Give me the heart of a Man!” 

JOHN G. NEIHARDT 


111 







GAS ALARM IN THE “UNDERGROUND CITY 








VERDUN: “ILS NE PASSERONT!” 


113 


ONE company of the 25th was already at Verdun, and thus to be 
of some service to it I motored over to the city sometimes spoken 
of as the “Underground City.” 

This name was given Verdun because of the innumerable dug- 
outs, trenches and underground passages that were made there for 
protection. You see this city was a coveted position which the Ger¬ 
mans often attacked and lost heavily, but never gained. Therefore 
to hold the fort the French had entrenched themselves securely on 
and underneath the mr.ny hills which surrounded the main city. 

Back in 19T4'-1915, when the enemy was driving the French before 
it, many strongholds fell because the old style method of defense 
was not sufficient to hold out 8 gainst the modern war machinery, 
such as long rangers and howitzers. This method of defense was as 
follows: There would bq one central fortress surrounded by others 
on prominent hills. These fortresses were so arranged that if the 
enemy attacked one he would be under lihe direct fire of another. 
Th y were connected by roads and railways with the central fortress. 
Nov/ it can be readly seen how quickly and completely such a defense 
could be destroyed by the modern guns of warfare, for, once the 
enemy got a direct fire on these fortresses they were easily de¬ 
stroyed. But Verdun was different. Each of these smaller forts was 
connected by underground tunnels or at least by trenches, and forti¬ 
fied strongly by French 75’s. So you see if shells poured on one 
fortification, and it had to be given up, there were others untouched 
by shells to which the fighting units could go. 

We enter d the city by way of the railroad from the west side. 
Passing through we proceeded on out several miles over slopes and 
through valleys east of the cit ! y. While we were in the truck we 
wanted to view the shell torn area out on those hills where the real 
fighting of the war had been done. Cautiously we proceeded along 
the road beholding trenches, dugouts, tunnels, barbed wire entangle¬ 
ments, wrecked forests and war equipage. It was out here that the 
Germans had attacked the French time after time, being repulsed on 
most every occasion. The story of the fierce struggle runs like this: 

Verdun lay open to the fnemy from three directors—the north, 
north-easti and east. And this attack continued without cessation 
during the four years of the war. And since everything ninged on 
this one fort the Germans willingly lost 500,000 men there because 
they knew that one point to be the crux of the western front. France 
knew if also. Between 1870 and 1914 she had spent $1,500,000,000 


114 


“OVER THERE 


Jt 


on the Longwy-Verdun-Toul-Epinal-Belfort fortification line. Half of 
this money was wasted on works which the hitherto unknown siege 
guns rendered useless, the other half saved Verdun, which saved 
France. 

Verdun lies distant from Paris 140 miles aDd from Toul 40 miles. 
The city of Verdun was never attacked, though bombarded, and 
throughout the four years of the siege, farm life continued peacefully 
on the slopes and crops were garnered under the continuous roar 
of the guns. 

The attack began in force on September 4, 1914, and on the Otli 
occured one of the most dramatic pictures of the war. 

“Sunddenly, on the top of one of the hills overlooking the battle, 
there appeared a group of figures, seeming small in the distance, but 
all in glittering uniforms. After a pause one detached himself from 
the rest, and rode slowly forward. He was dressed in white, the gorge¬ 
ous uniform of a Colonel of the White Cuirassiera. It was the kaiser. 
He was there in person, directing the battle and giving elaborate 
instructions with regard to the. Arch of Triumph which was to be 
erected in the streets of Nancy, through which he planned to ride 
a day or two later. 

“The Germans hurled hundreds, then thousands, then tens of 
thousands of men up the various steeps of Le Grand Couronne. But 
from the slender throats of the French 75’s poured a mass of lire 
against which mass drives were impossible. Not once did those grey- 
clad masses effect lodgment, at least none that were living did so. 
So terrible was the slaughter on the day the kaiser watched and made 
his plans for the triumphal arch, that the next day, Sunday, in spite 
of the pitiful confession of weakness that it implied, the German 
general asked for a truce to bury the German dead. 

“On the morning of the 12th, calm fell and over the whole of the 
stricken field brooded peace. It was time, for the Germans had lost 
40,000 dead on those slopes of destruction. All of Germany’s forces 
had to be turned to defensive tactics, if the line of the Aisne was 
to be held ” 

During the entire winter of 1915-1916, the German General Staff 
decided to concentrate on another storming of Verdun. All winter, 
therefore, they brought up guns and troops, ready for the great 
attack. By the middle of February -140,000 men were facing the city. 
Their guns were numbered, not in scores, or hundreds, but by 
thousands. It was by far a bigger concentration than Germany’s drive 


VERDUN: “ILS NE PASSERONT!” 


115 


to Paris, which was also a failure. How the Germans regarded its 
importance may be seen from the words a German general addressed 
to his troops just before the first attack was begun: “In this LAST 
offensive against France, I hope that the Fifteenth Corps will dis¬ 
tinguish itself by its courage and its fortitude, as it has always done.” 

It was a few minutes before four o’clock in the morning of Feb¬ 
ruary 21, 1916, that the great attack began. High explosive shells 
fell like hailstones. Trenches were buried, dugouts were ruined, 
trench shelters were blown to fragaments. Thtre was no chance to 
hold the front lines. Within three hours there were no lines to hold. 
There was no chance of remaining hidden in the forest, for by noon, 
trees had been stripped bare of their boughs, only the twisted and 
shattered stumps remaining. The very face of nature was distorted. 
One French correspondent described the scene af'er eight hours of 
bombardment as "storm-tossed ground rent into hills and hummocks 
like a frozen jumble of waves, with shattered tree stumps rising here 
and there like jagged teeth.” 

On out we drove to Fort Douaumont* which had been stormed by 
the enemy on February 26, and taken. German General Headquarters 
announced “the capture of the Fort of Douaumont, the northeastern 
corn rstone of the principle line of the permanent fortifications of 
Verdun.” It was taken by the French an hour later, lost again in 
the afternoon, regained in the evening, and night fell with Douaumont 
claimed by both sides. As a matter of facj the dust-heap which once 
was Douaumont was held by none but corpses. The Brandenburgers 
held the trenches which they had made, although almost surrounded. 

Just a few dates will show the continuance of this long-drawnout 
agony. On February 26, 1916, the Germans captured Fort Douaumont. 
On March 7 they reached as far as Fresnes. From March 10 to April 
12, without a moments cessation, the Germans attacked Le Mort 
Homme (Dead Man’s Hill). It cost 40,000 men, and then was not 
taken. On May 8 the Germans secured a footing on Hill 304— 
which is the eastern end of Le Mort Homme. Thus back and forth 
these positions changed hands all the balance of 1916, and the spring 
of 1917 found them in French hands, although they paid heavily for 
them. The spring of 1918 saw the positions little changed, but dur¬ 
ing that last year the whole face of the war was changed. This 
fact was made so because the Americans were in the fight. 

“Ils ne Passeront!” (They Shall Not Pass) became the battle cry 
of the French while they were struggling to hold Verdun and her 


116 


“OVER THERE 


ft 


fortifications. This motto of Verdun became the motto of France on 
all tlie fronts from that time cn to the close. It has become the 
motto of liberty. “If France may be regarded as the Blessed Garden 
to which impious men desired to enter, then Verdun was the angel 
with a flaming sword that guarded the way." 

So just a few weeks before we crossed over the scarred hills easi 
of Verdun, the French with the assistance of the Americans had 
driven from those slopes the tenacious enemy. And our boys payed 
a very important figure during the last two years of that awful strug¬ 
gle. Not only was this true from the standpoint of furnishing more 
men and guns, but equally true from the standpoint of morale. That 
put punch into the whole affair. It was the thing that held Verdun 
during the death grapple while the kaiser directed the battle in the 
early stage of the war. During those days France’s successes at the 
Marne and Nancy were being told her braves in the trenches on the 
slopes where we bumped along in our truck, and this gave the be¬ 
sieged city morale. 

At the time the 25th went into the Argonne Forest the Germans 
had just been diven out of that particular spot, and from Hill 304 
close to Le Mort Homme, where they lost 40,000 killed in a few days 
battle. This hill was nortwest of Verdun, possibly ten miles, just 
west of the Meuse River. To this death hill, and even many miles 
beyond our brave engineers went, building roads, railways, trenches 
and dugouts. Therefore I think the Engineers “won the war,” though 
soma think the Infantry did, some the Heavy Artillerymen, and quite 
a few actually think the K. P.’s ought to have the credit. As Lincoln 
once said, when two hatters had each presented him with expensive 
and beautiful hats, “They do mutually excell each other,” so they all 
had an important place in winning the great fight. 

After going as far as we thought we were allowed on our trip over 
“hallowed ground” we circled back toward the city. On the way we 
stopped at a few of the forts and dugouts which had helped France 
win the fight At one of these I picked up a few souvenirs. They 
were a German rifle, helmet, overcoat buttons, a couple of French 
75‘s and a Yank messkit. All the fellows got something so you see 
we had quite a collection of souvenirs on our truck. As you know, 
getting souvenirs was one of the American soldier’s chief occupations 
in the A. E. F. 

Soon we drove back into Verdun, parked the truck with our com¬ 
pany headquarters there, had dinner and took in the town. Unlike 


VERDUN: “ILS NE PASSERONT!” 


117 


any other shell-torn city Verdun presented a most spectacu.ar sight. 

Instead of the buildings being completely demolished as in most 
other ciiti'es, they were each hit by one or two shells from above. 
In oth r words, every building it seemed had a hole shot through the 
roof or the wall, and was more or less wrecked. You see since the 
Germans could not force their way against those French 75’s, they 
pitched longrange, high explosive shells into the city miles and miles 
away. And what the enemy lacked tearing her to pieces wasn’t 
much, but the “flaming sword” kept him out. 

One of the principal sights I viewed while in the city was the 
wrecked cathedral. A shell or two had torn through the roof and the 
east wall, leaving a mass of wreckage within. We thought at first 
we could not enter for the building was guarded, but through one of 
our fellows who could speak French we were allowed to enter. I 
wanted a reminder of this old church awfully bad, but we were 
watched so closely that the only thing I got off with was a little 
piece of marble. After viewing some of the underground tunnels we 
went! back to our outfit. 

Having delivered some sacks of magazines and stationery to the 
company, giving them a “show” that night, we rose early next morn¬ 
ing to “partee.” But before we leave the “underground city” I must 
tell you the story of a French mother at Verdun. She represents 
the type of French mothers who saved the day for their country. The 
story runs like this: 

An American soldier on guard duty close to a cemetery in Ver¬ 
dun noticed a French woman leaving the enclosure where she had 
carried flowers to leave on the grave of a loved one. As she ap¬ 
proached the soldier came to attention, and the kindly woman paused. 

Said he, “You have evidently lost a son in the war?” 

“Yes,” she timidly replied, “I Juried the fifth and youngest only 
yesserday, and wish to God I had five more to offer in defense of 
my country.” 

Ah! such mothers as she won the war! That she had five more 
to give in denfense of her country! The world will never know what 
the mothers of France suffered, those little mothers behind the lines. 
Thousands of them are now widows, and their day of sacrifice is 
not over. Throughout life they go toiling and bleeding, as many 
hundreds in our own homeland do, till the last day is done, and they 
go to rest. 


118 


“OVER THERE” 


Soon we arrived back at regimental headquarters where the same 
rounds as described in a former chapter are begun again. It was 
something to do or see every day. Not much time for play. And so 
those athletic goods came in handy. We had to keep fit, you know. 

While at Vraincourt one of our captains had brought back on a 
trip he had taken, a larger and more complete movie machine, and 
presented it to me saying, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no 
lies.” It had the added feature of equipment for slides over the little 
one I was wagging around with me. This feature came in very hand¬ 
ily, for I could get slides with songs on them, and these we threw on 
the screen and sang. And singing helped greatly to keep up the 
morale of the men, and ward off the “blues.” 

One morning at breakfast it was announced by the top sergeant 
that the 25th had orders to move to the port of Brest. We all 
wondered what it meant. Was the war about to close? Or, what 
was the trouble? Most of the fellows seemed to think the war was 
about over, and that soon we would all be sailing for home; any¬ 
way, we lost no time packing. Shortly we were prepared to make 
the long trip. 

The day of our departure I met my friend Little, Chaplain of the 
21st Engineers I believe, whom I met back in Camp Taylor, and had 
not seen until we took up our headquarters at Vraincourt. He asked, 
“Where are you getting off to?” 

“To the port of Brest,” I answered. “Where are you going?” 

“Up to the front to see how my men are fareing. Gee, I wish I 
could go with you to the port. I’ve had all of this I need.” 


“Thick is the darkness— 
Sunward, O, sunward! 
Rough is the highway— 
Onward, still onward!” 


—W. E. HENLEY. 



XIV. 

UNDER CLOUDY SKIES 


“The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; 

It rains, and the wind is never weary; 

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, 
But at every gust the dead leaves fall, 

And the day is dark and dreary. 

“My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; 

It rains and the wind is never weary; 

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past, 
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, 
And the days are dark and dreary. 

“Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; 
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining, 

Thy fate is the common fate of all, 

Into each life some rain must fall, 

Some days must be dark and dreary.” 


119 


—LONGFELLOW 








THE FAMOUS “KOOTIE KILLER 














UNDER CLOUDY SKIES 


121 


BUT we-did not go directly to the port. For three weeks we 
were shifted from one village and camp to another wai fing transpor¬ 
tation. Our first stop was at Camp Souilly, where two of my com¬ 
panies were already stationed. 

Souilly was a mud hole if ever I saw one. Rained nearly every 
day. While all the barracks were connected with duckboards, you 
sometimes had to get in the middle of the road, then you sure did 
get soaked. Just mud and rain, that's all. Made me think of Long¬ 
fellow’s Rainy Day, except the wind was hardly ever rough. 

I got all fixed up in a little room to myself. The firrt time since 
our landing in the Argonne that I had roomed alone; and now it 
made little difference if I was by myself, since the danger of shelling 
and raids was about over. Thus being all set I prepared to furnish a 
little entertainment for the fellows, and hold a few services and con¬ 
tinue the same line of work I had followed for the past three mm hs. 

Having spoken to the men on Sunday morning, there came to me 
at the close of the service, a young fellow from a casual company 
there in camp, and asked me if I wouldn’t speak to them that nigh\ 
I had already announced service again in the “Y” hut for that even¬ 
ing, but told him to come after me at the close and I would also go 
to his men. Thus after the evening service in the hut, I followed 
mj fri nd to the casuals where I spoke again. 

Fifty men were already in the mess hall having a song rnd prayer 
service. Found out that they had met every night for an hour in 
this kind of a service ever since they came into camp. So after a 
tew more songs I rose to speak to them about the Savior of the 
world. In closing I asked all who had already decided for Christ to 
stand to their feet. Twenty-five did so. Then, with an added appeal 
that to live for Him was the most important mat'ier to concern them 
now and forever, I asked all who would cast themselves on the right 
side with the rest of us, to stand also. The other twenty-five rose, 
many of them with an expression of gladness on their faces; others 
with a serious look. Then we all shook hands and pledged the Lord 
we would be truo to Him. 

i think this was the happiest occasion of my life overseas. At 
a few o'her times there were visible results from appeals to the 
unsaved, but never so many before. It went to prove the fellows 
were thinking seriously about their relation to God, and especially 
was this true when men were going into battle, and while in the 
trenches. 


“OVER THERE 


122 


>> 


One of the chaplains connected with the Chaplains School at 
Chaumont, told us while we ware there for a f w days, that he had 
seen two and three hundred men at one service dedicate their lives 
to God. Some of the chaplains seemed to be gifted at winning the 
lost, while others s emed lo be good at something else. Of course 
the main question on going into battle was, “Are you ready to die?” 


That makes me think of a joke you have perhaps already heard. 
It runs like this: A revival was in progress. The evangelist urged 
upon the Christians to speak to their friends about their souls and 
bring them to the meeting. All who would do this before returning 
the following night were asked to stand. Several rose, among whom 
there was a barber. All the next day he kept thinking of his promise, 
and sought a convenient time to speak to some man who came in for 
work. But he let the opportunities slip by till time for closing had 
drawn nigh. The boss had stepped out. The nervous Christian said, 
here’s my time. I will tackle the next man who enters. Soon a 
fellow came in for a shave. After lathering him, and while strapping 
his razor the barber asked: “Friend, are you a Christian?” 


“Sorry to say it, my dear sir, but I must say that I am not,” 
replied the man in the chair. 

“Then, Prepare to meet thy God!” 

I suppose that explains the reason why some of us chaplains did 
not have the success as others, had . in winning men _ to Christ. It’s 
about twenty-five, per c nt knowledge, twenty-five per cent tact, 
and the balance to make up tl^e hundred in concern, or zeal and 
God’s power. r , 

Having been in Souilly for a week we got orders to move to Givry, 
a small to\pi a half day’s-travel by tr.ueks, from the old muddy camp. 
Thus on Monday morning, a pretty, cold morning too, we motored to 
this railhead hoping this would be tbe lagt move before really board¬ 
ing the box cars for the coast. And it proved to be so, though , we 
had to wade the slush and rain around Givry for two weeks longer. 

...... c' V • < ' i -. i 

Thus further and further from the trenches and cooMes we were 
going, but likely some of the cooties went along too. That reminds 
me of a story on that little pest. 

Private: “Do you know back in Kentucky where I came from 
the potato bugs are sometimes so thick that you often see them taking 
a. view of the patch from a post or tree, to see how many bugs are 
necessary to harvest the crop.” 


UNDER CLOUDY SKIES 


123 


Sergeant: “That's nothing. Our regiment was preparing to go 
to the front. While the C. O. was reading the orders I saw a coo.le 
looking over his shoulder to see how many men were to be sent up!” 

But those bugs nof only went up with the men but they came back 
with them. Atj least they came as far as the port where all clothing, 
bedding, etc., were run through the cootie machine and the cooties 
strangled. 

In order to get such supplies as I had been getting from the Y. M. 
C. A. I had to go about thirty-five miles to Bar-le-Duc, where at one 
time the German line of battle reached. However this city was not 
badly torn by shelling. The first trip down there we had trouble. 

Taking a motorcycle with sidecar, my driver and I sej out to get 
an excange on our reels, and also bring back as many papers as we 
could haul. Had not gone far before a gentle rain began to fall. 
But we got what we went after, if we did have to wait hours and 
hours for the Y man to came in. Finally getting our load we started 
back, but it was late, so late that dark overtook us before we had 
gone many miles. Having slipped and skidded about over the road 
very badly for a few miles the chain slipped off. Every time the 
driver got it back and started it slipped off again. Was getting very 
dark, and we had no light. Realizing our chances for getting in that 
night w re gone, we turned back to Bar-le-Duc, but we were pulled in 
by a passing car. The problem of lodgement was the next to solve. 

But having gone straight to the “Y” we found there was some 
room left up in the attic of their sleeping quarters. This we gladly 
took, turned in for the night, then took an early start next day. 

Before reaching camp another cold rain began to fall, and by the 
time we got back the driver and I both were drenched, though we 
had on our trench coats. I at once proceeded to my room in the 
village hotel on the second floor. Here I built myself a fire and tried 
to dry out in time for the show that night. But had not been in 
long before one of my men came in for some advice and counsel. 

This young fellow was orderly to one of the company lieutenants. 
I had no orderly myself. The adjutant, like many church members 
fe:l about help for the pastor, had told me that men were scarce and 
1 had lots of time anyway to get my own wood and shine my own 
shoes. But This young man came in troubled about affairs back at 
home. He said: 

“My mother and my sweetheart are dead. I got the letter yes¬ 
terday. I had lived in hopes of meeting them again, and had saved 


124 


“OVER THERE 


99 


up my money so my girl and I could have a lit le star, in life, but now 
it’s about gone. The future seems to hold but little in store for mo. 

He did not have to tell me that he had spent some of his money 
for booze. This was plainly shown from his breath, and by his 
actions. We prayed the matter over together, I premised to write 
a latter or rwo back home for him, then he left me. 

At Givry there was a French welfare hut given over for our use. 
Here we had movies, one or two entertainments by “Y” troupes and 
I had services each Sunday and Sunday night while in the place. 
One service I remember very distinctly. It was when the Colonel, 
his Adjutant and several of the company officers attended. 

Previous to this Sunday morning servise I had seen all the of¬ 
ficers and invited them out. Seats were reserved at the front. Sure 
enough some of them came, the Colonel leading the way. But they 
never came any more in a body, and only two or three ever came 
around after that. Somehow I didn’t exactly please them, I suppose, 
or else they cared little, if anything, for religion. But the men al¬ 
ways came when they were given a chance. 

The main hindcrance to Sunday morning serives was inspection 
by the C. O., as well as by the M. O. This was s aged always on 
Sunday and seemed never to fail to k cp most of the fellows from 
service. I did what I could to get the co-operation of the C O. in 
this matter but he seemed not to be able ho help me out. It was 
always orders from higher up, orders which could not be changed. 
So the old “Sky Pilot” in the army had to fit his work to a program, 
for the most part, already outlined by higher authorities. 

One evening in the Foyer de Soldat (Home for Soldiers) I spoke 
to a crowded house. It was the eve before our departure for the port. 
I lamented the fact that no more of the officers would attend the 
services. But ?fter doing my best oa “Tbo Devil’s Submarines” sev¬ 
eral men took a stand with the Christians, and a number came at 
the close and said they would stay by me, and not to worry about 
the officers. This was encouragement indeed, and from that time 
on I just did my best for all, and paid more attention to the enlisted 
men. Before going back to my room a tall healthy fellow told me 
his experience about prayer while at the front. 

On a certain night it came his buddy’s time to go out into No 
Man’s Land, while he himself was left alone. Shelling began, and 
shrapnel fell around him. He crawled under his mattress and prayed. 
He asked God to spare his life, and his buddy’s, promising if his life 


UNDER CLOUDY SKIES 


125 


were spared he would do anthirg the Lord wanted him to do when 
he returned heme. The fellow never saw his buddy again, but after¬ 
wards got a letter from his mother s atirg that on a certain night 
she prayed earnestly that God would spare her son. After checking 
over the time of the shelling the boy found that the two incidents 
coincided, or occured at about, the same time of day. Thus, the stout 
young man told me that the “Germans made a believer out of him,” 
ancl that he certainly did be’ieve in prayer. 

Next day we were all up early with things packed for a “fare¬ 
well trip.” But we didn’t go that day. Though we marched out to 
the station and stood around all day in the slush, our cars did not 
show up. So we took our bunks back to the billets previously oc¬ 
cupied and there stayed another night. Such a life. Scmebdy had 
made a slip somewhere. But the train would be sure to roll in bright 
and early next morning, therefore every man better be on hand at 
seven o’clock. 

Nobody wanted to be left so long as we were headed westward, 
so orders were strictly obeyed. And at seven cur stuff was on the 
ground waiting for the cars agam. Finally, at five in the afternoon, 
after waiting all "day in the - rain and mud, they rolled in lazily. All 
I had to do was take care of myself. Took very few minutes to find 
myself a place t6 “hang out.” By dark wheels were rolling. 

Though it rained on us all the way to Brest we had a pretty 
good trip, for we were well equipped for traveling. The fellows built 
their bunks in the box cars. They really fared bett r than officers 
on that trip, for those of us who rode as first class passengers had 
to sleep on the seats, either si ting or lying doubled up. We had our 
own electric light system. For a dynamo the men had brought a 
German make from the lines. Had our own kitchens, enabeling the 
K. P.’s to prepare meals on the road. We had to stop only long 
enough to eat. Being eng'neers my outfit had nearly everything 
necessary to comfort while traveling. 

Occasionally we passed another troop train with “Forty hommes, 
eight chevaux” to each car, except there were no horses in the cars 
with the men. That was the sign on the French cars. They were 
supposed to hold forty men or eight horses, whichever the case m'ght 
be. When those troops, who were crowded into their quarters with¬ 
out accomodations saw ours faring so well they wondered who we were. 

Once in a while our train shopped for an hour or two waiting for 
some hing. At such a time we piled out, got out our athletic goods, 


126 


“OVER 


THERE” 


and limbered up. The French civilians stared at us in utter sur¬ 
prise that we had time to play ball on the road, and that we could 
afford such equipment as electric lights, beds, etc., on the cars. But 
why shouldn’t we have some fun? We were headed toward home, 
maybe, at least going a long way from the front. We had done our 
little bij( up there, anyway, and were glad to get a “leave of absence.” 

Arriving at the port about four in the afternoon, we unloaded 
and waited for our turn to be carried to camp. But while waiting it 
began to rain, this time a harder rain Khan I ever saw over there. 
The truck I was to go on arrived after dark, and we started up the 
hill to old Camp Pontinezen, mentioned in a former chapter. 

As the big truck buzzed and sputtered, slipped and bucked, she 
slowly but surely climbed Khe long hill, while the rain fell in tor¬ 
rents. Fifteen or twenty men were on top, our stuff being under¬ 
neath, both men and bagagge getting the full benefit of the damp¬ 
ness. But we got there; thal is we got within half a mile of the 
barracks. The problem now was getting our stuff to them. 

“Every fellow for himself, and the devil for us all,” seemed to 
be the motto that night. I waited and waitled for help to carry my 
baggage, consisting of two trunks, bed roll, and two boxes of enter¬ 
tainment machinery, but finally realizing that it w T as up to me I 
carried it over, all except the boxes which were very heavy. Tnese 
I put on a little push car on rails, and on arriving at the barrack 
did manage to get a fellow to help me put them inside. Such a 
time, such a time! I wondered if the “friend” back at home would 
ever know what I was having to go through w:th! 

At one o’clock all was quiet. Then I fell asleep and was aroused 
next morning only after a second “lewie” had thumped my ears sev¬ 
eral minutes. And upon rising I looked my staff over, found it all 
there except the sack of atletic goods, which I never found. 

One day only I spent around the fire nursing a severe cold, then 
began scouting about to find supplies for my men, and equipment for 
a recreation hut. And for four weeks I waded the mud in that camp, 
never seeing the sun but once, and then only for a few minutes, enjoy¬ 
ing one good shower of rain only during the month, and that lasted 
four weeks. 

In the next story we will tell you about what we tried to do for 
the men and describe some of the sights of this old port, the one in 
which we landed first, then take you through the Dismal Dungeon. 


IN THE DISMAL DUNGEON 



“Stone walls do not a prison make, 
Nor iron bars a cage, 

Minds innocent and quiet take 
That for a hermitage. 

. y “ 

“If I have freedom in my love, 

And in my soul am free; 

Angels alone that soar above 
Enjoy such liberty.” 


—LOVELACE 






FORT BUILT BY ROMANS IN FIRST CENTURY, 








IN THE DISMAL DUNGEON 


12£ 


THAT part of the old camp where the 25th was located was new, 
and built out in the fields, \!hus the occasion of so much mud. Those 
fields as described before are small and fenced in with hedges made 
of dirt and stone. Therefore, every bit of the water which falls on 
the earth there has to soak in, for it cannot run off. So you can 
imagine how sloppy it was about camp. * 

First Sunday There I attended service over at the b g “Y” hut,, 
and heard a fine sermon of the type you generally hear in church, 
over here. It was free from the “military style” so often heard in 
the army. Just a plain, soul-stirring message from a heart which 
loved. Being the first opportunity I had had in four months to hear 
another preacher talk, I greatly enjoyed the service. 

While at Brest I carried on the same kind of work with the men 
which I had done up in the woods, except I did not have to go far 
after supplies, and I was not both red with the entertainment very 
much. I was able to arrange wi h the “Y” man down town for the 
New York Herald which I went after daily and distributed among 
my men. Besides this I continued to get all the magazines for them 
I could. Borrowed books frem the library, and got other things 
needful for the welfare of the men. Secured much litera ture on vari¬ 
ous subjects which I kept distributed among the fellows. And while 
doing all this X took in the old berg generally, seeing quite a few 
sights. 

One of my amusements was walking up and down the streets look¬ 
ing at Mie show windows; window-shopping, I believe the ladies call 
it.Didn’t buy much; just looked through and priced stuff, as a woman 
does, then said, “I don’t care to buy anything, thank you.” The 
French do have pretty show windows. 

While in town I often took advantage of eating away from camp. 
The place most frequented by me, as well as by others, was the Ameri¬ 
can officers hotel under the supervision of the Y. M. C. A. Here one 
could get a several course dinner served by French waitresses. Oh 
my! How we did “parlcz vous Francais.” Oftentimes officers 
would remain in the dining rocm for hours at a time. But those 
girls were on the go, rarely ever stopping near you except in waiting 
on the tables. And they expected you to tip them, too. If you didn’t, 
the very next time you went there to eat, they remebered it. That 
reminds me of a story. 

The satisfied guest rose to leave. He said, “That was a tip op 
d.'nr r, aiter. You know what that means, don’t you? 


130 


“OVER THERE” 

The colored waiter quickly replied, “Yes, sah. It’s one that you 
top off with a tip.” 

One day at this hotel I met my Camp Taylor friend, Chaplain 
Vaughn, the one from Mississippi. He told me about several of the 
fellows who went over with us, some of whom had got bumped off. 
Said so far as he had learned two chaplains from Camp Taylor were 
killed, one of these being Ostergran frcm Chicago. Ostergran was 
a young single man who had a sweetheart back in Chicago, and a 
very fine fellow he was. One or two chaplains had been wounded, 
and were back at base hospitals. Of course we told each other our 
experiences at the front, and finally said goodby, feeling that there 
was some kind of a close relation between us. It was always that 
way over there. Even if you met a man whom you had not known 
before, but came from your section of the country, and knew many 
people you knew, there was a kindly feeling between the two. 

Second Sunday I was able to have service with my men in a hut 
belonging to another outfit. Then went with Company D to dinner. 
It was a fine dinner, too. The cook served me right in ihe kitchen 
on a table. And we had cake! And pie! Oh, I tell you it was swell. 

In this same hut the following Thursday night the officers had 
a dance. They had it every week. I did not go, but stayed in with 
Captain Diehl. He told me wha:i kind of an affair the dance was. 
Said since a dance without women would be a failure many of the 
“Y” girls and some of the Red Cross women attended. Seme of 
thes3 women as well as officers often got drunk on cognac. Bu said 
he, on one occasion some “buck” privates stole their liquor, and the 
officers were out of luck. 

Upon asking the captain about his home back in the States he 
replied: “Chaplain, I have a fine baby girl back there I never saw. 
So I’m trying to be a man while over here, for I do want to return 
home to that wife and baby every inch a man.” 

One of the jobs I had at the port was building and equipping a 
hut solely for our own men. In the mud and rain the fellows worked 
faithfully fixing it 1 all up. While they were doing this I was scouting 
about for chairs and other things. Finally, I located some folding 
chairs belonging to the French welfare work. It took me sever 1 
days to find them, but when I did the Frenchmen in charge was very 
happy to let me have 500 chairs and several benches. Then securing 
a truck I took him wi h me to the warehouse and we loaded them on. 


IN THE DISMAL DUNGEON 


131 


Now we could have services, entertainments and a general receration 
place all our own. So we used it every night. 

But you are wondering if we were not preparing to stay in the 
port instead of coming home. Well, it was this way. We a’l .bought, 
hoped and prayed that we could come right on home, but it did not 
turn out that way. In fact we were foolish to think Uncle Sam 
would bring us back before the Germans were completely whipped. 
The 25fh had been sent to Brest to help get the old muddy camp in 
better shape for care of the stream of soldiers constantly passing 
through^ there. It seemed so close to home. No land be ween, al¬ 
though 2,000 miles of water. But “C’est la guerre,” hence we stuck 
it out. 

One of the strange sights I saw while there was an old fortress 
said to have been built by the Romans in the first century. It was 
down on the water-front opposite our camp. A few of my men and 
1 decided on a day and went down. 

On the outside of the old dungeoD we waited while the k eper 
carried a party through ahead of us. The building was evidently 
constructed as a fortress since iO was somewhat square with towers 
at each corner. At the top of these towers there are gun-holes or 
places through which the enemy could be watched, and through 
which the guns could be fired. Built of stone, and perhaps built over 
and remodeled several times since its first construction, the structure 
was tall with dimensions sufficient to care for quite a few hundred 
soldiers during a siege. Just outside, close to the wall, we noticed 
a deep well which was dry. None of us knew what it was for, but 
after going inside the guide cleared away the mystery. 

After waiting an hour it came our time to see the inside. The 
French guide would conduct only a few through at a time. We 
entered, went down a flight of steps to the basement floor. Here 
seemed to be the living rooms for those who, in days past, had kept 
the dungeon, and who had had charge of the prisoners committed to 
the prison. In fact the guide told us all about it, and in turn an 
interpreter told us what he said. Down another flight of stairs to 
the dark underground rooms. These were rather small, but as dark 
as midnight. Many times we had to go sing’e file through the narrow 
openings between these cells. The guide carried a searchlight to 
light the way. Directly we came to the light which came in fror; 
above. On either side of us just above our heads were little rooms 
or places off-set in the walls. These the guide said were used by 


132 


''OVER THERE” 


the judge and prisoners. On the cne side the cruel judge sat, on 
the other the trembling prisoner. As soon as the sentence was passed 
the unfortunate being was -cast into one of the dark cells and fed 
just enough to keep him alive. One of the fellows noticed a small 
hole in the top of each cell and asked the Frenchman, “What was 
that for?” 

Then the guide answered, “Through that hole the keeper dropped 
the prisoners’ meals. Striking the dirty floor the inmates grabbed 
for it ..and r ate,oftentimes having^ a fight at every mealtime. The 
strongest man, of course, got most to eat.” 

Upon reaching the outer wall there was a small round cell; very 
clean and dry, with light from the water side. This was for those 
whose offenses were very light, or for a woman prisoner. Then the 
guide told us a story of a young woman that was kept in there many 
hundred years, ago. 

She was committed to prison because she would not marry a 
certain “prominent” man. For many months she was kept in the 
“good”- cell with promise of. release when she had relented and 
would promise to marry the man who wanted her. Seeing that the 
prisoner would not change her mind she was committed to one of the 
dark cells for a time. Then having refused to retrace her deceision, 
she went the way of all criminals. By this time we were climbing 
down a ladder into a round cell in the shape of a cistern.' And when 
we had reached the bottom the one-armed, one legged, guide went on: 

“This place was originally, about twenty-fivO feet deep. As you 
see it is now partially filled with mud. At the bOttOih there were 
a number of sharp pointed swords fixed in the rock Wi h the points 
sticking, upward. From the. top there the criminal was thrbWii to be' 
cut and mutilated on the,spears. When the victim was dead ho 
was washed out into the bay by a sluce of water from the welt 
on the outside. Then another followed him, many times several 
at once,-’ 

“But what about the young woman?” inquired one of the men 
who spoke French, as we climbed up the ladder, “What became of 
her?” 

“Oh, she was thrown into .this pit as I have just; been saying, and 
was washed into the bay as the rest,” rep’ied the indifferent guide* 
Then added, “She was picked up by the sailors and found to be with 
child. The ship surgeon took the baby, and it lived to be a grown 
man.” 

•• * v 

v -f - S "< 



j . 



IN THE DISMAL DUNGEON 


133 


Such a strange, mysSerious place! I’ve wondered if the whole 
story might not be learned and a book written on “The Dismal 
Dungeon.” What cruelty, what suffering must have been caused in 
there! 

Going back through town I stopped at a tailor’s and ordered a 
heavy, whipcord uniform, paying down on it that day fifty francs. It 
was to cost me 435 francs, or about $65.00 in U. S. money. If I had 
not been so foolish as to pay down what I did, I should never have 
taken the suit,, for it took that Frenchman a week to get it to fit. 
Every day I went to have him refit it, and it seemed that he 
would never geti it finished. I got all out of sorts before the job 
was done. 

Going back in that night, there came to see me one of my men 
in trouble. He stated that some other fellows had influenced him 
to drink and gamble, and had won all his money he meant to send 
back home to his father. Not only so, but he had fallen into im¬ 
morality and disgraced himself. In other words the fellow seemed 
to be confessing his sins. 

“Well,” I answered him, “We’ll pray about it. But really, young 
man, I am sure you would be better off to confess your sins to the 
Lord himself. I can pray for you, but you fell your troubles to God 
and ask him to forgive you.” And he said he would. 

,. Having been in Brest only four weeks I received orders trans¬ 
ferring me to the 309fh Infantry of the 78th Division. The news came 
as a shock. I could not understand why. Thus going at once to the 
port chaplain I found that chaplains were being severed from their 
outfits when sent to the port, and transferred to another. Well, like 
a good soldier I had to take my medicine. 

So near home and yet so far away! I had thought to-stay there 
until, the w^^losed and the first home. But no such good luck 
for me. I thought I’d just go back and fight the war, all over again, 
or perhaps have the privilege of seeing the end of the whole affair. 
Thus getting a letter off to that “friend” down in Texas, telling her 
of my sad p’ight, I set about to pack my stuff for another fight. 

Gocdby, souvenirs! My German rifle, helmet and nearly every¬ 
thing I clumped off. Simply had too much luggage. Maybe I could 
get some more souvenirs, anyway, when I started home, if I ever did. 
So I gave my highly-prized war trophies to my friends. That was 
Saturday. 


134 


‘‘OVER THERE” 


Sunday I spoke three times; at the Y in the morning, at the K. C. 
hall in afternoon and to my own men in their hut at night. A busy 
day indeed! But the last meeting with those fine fellows I had 
learned to love, will stick in my memory always. That is I thought 
it would be the last.. But on account of missirg my train I got to 
spend Monday night with them as well. But Sunday night I spoke 
as if it were the last, which at that time I thought it was. 

Af the close a number of the men s ayed and talked long with me, 
giving me their addresses and asking me to write them if I ever got 
back home safe and sound. One of these was a fine looking young 
man from Tyler, Texas. I do not recall his name, but he impressed 
me as being a very fine fellow. 

Since my train was not to leave till about night of the next day, 
I had all the morning to finish packing, and had some time to talk 
with the headquarters men in the office. 

Soon after dinner I loaded my belongings into a truck and bumped 
down the long hill toward the railroad station to buy my ticket. But 
having some time to “kill” the Colonel’s chauffeur took me ov r to 
the Red Cross hut where one of our fellows was doing a neat, artistic 
job of decorating. He was painting it all up in grand style. He 
was an artist, indeed. 

Then the driver took me back by the tailor’s to geO my uniform. 
And whaf do you think! That suit was not finished! That is one 
time I bawled out a Frenchman, whether he understood me or not. 
For more than a week he had piddled with that suit. And had I not 
hated to lose my fifty francs I would have left it with him. 

But after so long a time I got the clothes, paid over the franci 
due, but lo! when I reached the station my train was gone. But I 
didn’t care much, for I had left my watch in the shop. 


“You may have your Copper Stocks 
Gold and tin and coal— 

What I’d have within my box 
Has to do with Soul.” 


—J. K. BANGS. 


XVI. 

LAST NIGHT WITH 25TH 


“Remember, love, who gave you this 
When other days shall come, 
When she who had thy earliest kiss 
Sleeps in her narrow home. 
Remember ’twas a mother gave 
The gift to one she’d die to save. 

“That mother sought a pledge of love, 
The holiest for her son, 

And from the gifts of God above 
She choose a goodly one. 

She choose for her beloved boy 
The source of light and life and joy. 

“A parent’s blessing upon her son 
Goes with this holy thing; 

The love that would retain the one 
Must to the other cling. 

Remember ’tis no idle toy— 

A mother’s gift—remember boy.” 


1B5 




ANTI-AIRCRAFT vs. GERMAN BOMBING PLANE 




LAST NIGHT WITH 25TH 


137 


THIS was not the watch I lost, but a Swiss wrist watch I bought 

in New York City. I had left it some days previous with a jeweler, 

and in my rush had forgotten it. So the driver took me by the shop, 
which was closed! But having banged on the door to wake up the 
jeweler—for he lived over the shop—he finally came down and I got 
my watch. Then we went back out to camp. 

Looked as if I shouldn’t leave the engineers, but the Rubicon had 
been crossed; no turning back now. Next morning I would rise early 
to catch the first train out. Had rather travel in daytime, anyway. 

I had no place in particular to go hence I went out to the hut 

to spend some more time with the fellows. They seemed awfully 

surprised to see me, for they thought me on my way to the other 
outfit. But I had to tell some of them my trouble, and they asked 
me to talk to the bunch. This I consented to do, asking them what 
I should talk about. Whereupon one of the men answered, “Tell us 
about yourself; are you married or single, and what did you do before 
enlisting in this man’s army?” Then I began. 

Well, I was a pastor several years before getting into the service. 
In fact I felt the call to preach and made my decision when I was 
nineteen. Started to college the same year, taking three years of 
prep work before I was ready to be a freshman. 

I got my first inspiration to go to college by hearing Rev. L. R. 
Scarborough, then pastor of the First Baptist Church in Abilene, 
Texas, who made a speech on Christian education at Cisco .where the 
association was in session. After hearing him that morning I pur¬ 
posed in my heart to have an education, if there was any for me. 
I had already felt impressed to enter the ministry before that day, 
then I felt the call more forcibly than ever. 

That afternoon, while standing on the outside before the service 
began. Brother Scarborough approached me, asked my name and the 
church I was from, then shocked me by asking: “Are you a 
preacher?” 

“No, sir!” I answered him. 

Then the man of God spoke something which never left me. “If 
you ever feel the call do not resist it,” and turned away. 

I must say that those words helped me to make the decision. 

While I did quite a bit of preaching in college, I was in my junior 
year before I had charge of a church. I had dropped out a year to 
teach so that I could square up my debts, and while out in West Texas 
was called to a small town church. 


138 


“OVER THERE” 


Going back to school the next year end finishing, I took a church 
in Big Spring, going from Abilene every Sunday for six months before 
graduating. Then I moved out there and lived on the field. Besides 
pastoring the church I also taught, for the church salary, as well as 
the school salary, was small. Had to do both to get by. But having 
stuck with the same work three years, being impressed that I ought 
to go into the army, I left Big Spring. But before getting tied up 
with army life I was persuaded to sign a contract to teach down in 
Coke County, among the rocks and hills. 

Thus I cranked my flivver and drove through, about a hundred 
miles. But it took a whole day to make the trip. The reason, the 
country was so rough. Therefore the only two means of travel over 
such roads as they have there, are Fords and wagons. I had driven 
the Ford long enough to know that the wagon did not have it 
“skinned” a bit for travel in rough country. In fact I have climbed 
more hills, pulled more mud holes and sand beds with a car than I 
ever have with a team of mules. I had no speedometer on my car. 

I needed none, for when I went ten miles an hour the fenders rattled, 
fifteen miles the lamps rattled, and twenty miles my bones rattled. 

I made very slow time after reaching the border of Coke. How¬ 
ever, the noise made was sufficient to rouse the sleeping rabbits 
from their beds. To this day the traveler can alwcys tell when he 
reaches the county line; the rabbits begin to jump up and run. 

Crossing the mountain just before going down into the valley, 
where I was to live that year, I lost my way. I stopped a man whom 
I took to be a citizen of that county and inquired of him the route. 
When he learned I was going to live there he told me how the county 
got its name. He said: 

“After the Creator had finished his great work of making the 
world He had quite a lot of brush and rocks he knew not what to 
do with. For a time He was puzzled, but finally He piled all this 
refuse stuff together out between Sweetwater and San Angelo and 
called it Coke.” Then the farmer, who by the way was moving away 
from that place, laughed and drove on. 

I cannot vouch for the story, but I do know for myrelf that the 
county is bountifully supplied with both rocks and brush, rabbits too. 

But from what I heard at a Teachers Institute down there you 
might think the pople are influenced considerably by the country’s 
topography. As he came over from the station that morning the 
jitney driver told him this tale: 




LAST NIGHT WITH 25TH 139 

“On account of the long continued drouth and hard financial cir¬ 
cumstances, a citizen of Coke County a few years ago moved east. 
Having lived at his new location a year or two he decided to go back 
out west, as they nearly all do. So he landed right back in Coke. 
But being a poor man, and the drouth striking again, he simply had 
to go elsewhere to make a living for his family. Locating in a fine 
black land county, things went well for a year or two, then the 
western fever took hold of him again. Everything except the farmer's 
family wagon and team, was left with the man taking possession. 
On the morning set for his departure he stepped out to the lot to 
bid his cow, pigs and other stock farewell. Having gone the round 
and lovingly petting them all, he started back to the house with tear- 
dimmed eyes. His faithful dog met him on the way, and seeming to 
understand his master’s movements, began jumping around and placed 
his forefeet upon his master as if "to say, ‘Don’t leave me!’ The sad- 
hearted man stopped, hugged Fido goodby, then passed inside to help 
the family. So when all things were ready they started, got to the 
gate, but the farmer as if he had forgotten something, went back into 
the "house. Folding his hands and looking heavenward he said in 
doleful tones, 'Grbo’dby God, I’m going back to Coke County.’ ” 

However forsaken you may now feel that this place was, I had a 
most pleasant year of it. I never lived in a community where my 
work was smoother, and where people seemed to appreciate more 
highly what I was trying to do for them. I say I had a pleasant time, 
and so far as the people were concerned I did. But conditions on 
account of the long drouth and rough cold weather made it very un¬ 
pleasant at times, especially during a sandstorm. Did any of you 
fellows ever see a sandstorm? 

Well, that was one of those dry years long to be remembered by 
the settlers of the west. How the sand did blow! And the northers 
swooped through the valley in rapid succession. Almost all the cat¬ 
tle saved from starvation were frozen by the blizzards. Ranchmen 
who had plenty of capital at the beginning of the drouth, were now 
involved so heavily trying to save their stuff that they would have 
been better off without a thing, had they not been in debt. Hundreds 
of people had already gone back east before the winter set in; others 
who were able left as soon as the winter broke. Some who were 
considered “old timers” said a change would come, so they stayed. 

In the early part of January the worst spell of all came. It was 
a combination blizzard and sandstorm. That is, they both came to- 


gether. The sandstorm came up in the afternoon, followed closely 
by one of the worst blizzards known to Texans, and ended with a five 
inch snow. 

About two o’clock a bank of sand was seen rolling up from the 
northwest. By three it struck the house full force. How the stiff 
wind did whip sand and gravel against the school house! The temp¬ 
erature fell rapidly. By four the wind was surely going at a sixty 
mile gait, while sand covered the flooors and the thermometer regis¬ 
tered freezing. Some of the patrons came for their children but had 
to abandon their cars on the way back and walk in home. Other 
children stopped with friends nearby the school, while some at'emptcd 
walking home and were nearly frozen. Next morning, before any 
breakfast was cooked, I shoveled from the kitchen floor of my “board¬ 
ing” place a tub full of sand and snow, which had filtered under the 
shingles of the ceilingless room. 

For two weeks the school was closed on account of the severe 
weather and an epidemic of measles. I had the measles myself and 
could not enjoy playing in the snow and hunting rabbits, as many 
did. 

On Friday of the second week after the snow was somewhat 
melted, but .while the ground was yet frozen, I was notified from 
Big Spring that I was placed in Class A of the selective draft. I 
was afraid of that so had already sent in my questionnaire with ex¬ 
emption attached, at the same time expecting to get in as a chaplain, 
but .the board paid no attention to my exemption excuses. A mistake 
had surely been made. Thus being advised by the local board to go 
out there and look into the matter at once, I set out early next morn¬ 
ing over the frozen road in my Ford. 

It was a very rough, cold and disagreeable journey. I had most 
every kind of trouble imaginable. The wind was so cold that the 
water in the radiator was kept frozen at the bottom, while it boiled 
on top. Under such conditions very slow progress was made. When 
about half the trip was covered I had a blowout. Fifteen miles I ran 
on the rim and got a new casing at Colorado City. This was for one 
of the fore wheels. Soon both back wheels were rolling on the rims. 

I got out, looked the situation over; realizing night was coming on, 
got "back in and drove Ihe remaining distance of thirty miles on two 
flat rims, arriving in Big Spring just in time to get the misunder¬ 
standing about the questionnaire straightened up, and saved myself 
from the rank of “buck” private. 


LAST NIGHT WITH 25TH 141 

Three months rapidly passed before I got the five recommendations 
and all the other necessary data together for the application I had 
been considering. But once getting everything ready, I sent in the 
application and got an answer from the war department within four 
weeks from the time I mailed it. The telegram said report to Camp 

i ■-. •' .? • ft’ . - ■ : ’ » 

Taylor at once for training. y . 

In April, however, before I got off to the camp, sorrow crossed 
my pathway. Only once before had a member of our family been 
taken from us, and he was .the baby brother of two years. This 
time it was my mother. 

For many months mother had been in declining health. She was 
taken gradually, and yet we did not think of her going so suddenly. 
The family having moved to East Texas I was a long way from them, 
and while I did my best to get there before the burial took place, 
I did not make it. 

Mother was so strong and courageous; such a mother, no boy ever 
had a better one. But she had made the last sacrifice for us, and I 
did not see her buried. -Neither did I see the little one laid away, 
nor have I seen the little mound in a West Texas cemetery.to this 
day. The grave of mother, however, I saw on my way to come over 
here." • ■ 

Boys, a fellow never knows how to appreciate and love a mother 
until she is gone. ~ I could have cheered that suffering soul more 
times than I did by writing her letters. I could have been a better 
boy while in the home if I had tried. Oh, that we could retrace those 
years gone by, we would all improve on our ways. The sharp word 
would not be said, the harsh criticism would be left off. We would all 
doubtless be more obedient. 

Fellows, if you haven’t written that mother of yours lately I wish 
you woul do it tonight, just as soon as I am through. You know 
how anxious she is about you, how concerned about your welfare. 
And be sure you read the Bible she gave you upon leaving home. 

When I was twenty-one my mother gave me a Bible. I have it yet. 
I did not bring it overseas with me, for it is worn badly and I am 
trying to keep it all my life. From that precious volume I have re¬ 
ceived much help in time of temptation, and comfort when under 
trial. On the fly leaf there is pasted a beautiful poem, the first 
stanza of which Fm going to quote: 


142 


“OVER THERE” 


“Remember, love, who gave you this 
When other days shall come, 

When she who had thy earliest kiss 
Sleeps in her narrow home. 

Remember ’twas a mother gave 

The gift to one she’d die to save.” 

Speaking of the Bible, I am reminded of the motto by President 
Wilson, which you have perhaps seen on the wall of some welfare 
hut. He says: “The Bible is the Word of Life. I beg that you read 
it and find this out for yourselves—read, not little snatches here and 
there—but long passages that will really be a road to the heart of 
it. You will find it not only full of real men and women, but also of 
things you have wondered about all your lives, as men have always; 
and the more you read the more it will become plain to you what 

things are worth while and what things are not.When you 

have read the Bible you will know it is the Word of God, because you 
will have found it the key to your own heart, your own happiness, 
and your own duly.” 

Notwithstanding the fact that some men cast upon the sacred 
volume a lot of criticism, and say that it, or parts of it, is a myth, 
such men as our President, William J. Bryan and Theodore Roosevelt 
believe to the contrary. And I have read somewhere the words of our 
General Pershing to the soldiers, “Hardship will be your lot, but 
trust in God will give your comfort; temptation will befall you, but 
the teachings of the Savior will give you strength.” 

In closing let me say that I think more of the 25ih than words 
can express. And I love you men, too. I leave you feeling that I 
have just about done my best for you and the regiment. But that’s 
what I came over here for. Now, I hope you get to go home right 
away, and if you get there before I do, just tell them that I’m coming. 
Fare-ye-well! 

After a brief sleep I was up again beating it to the station for 
my train. The colonel’s car took me down, and as I left it at the 
station, the driver handed me a letter of appreciation and recomend- 
ation from Colonel Payne, which I prize very highly. 

Having had two pleasant evenings with this goodly company of 
people, we now close, trusting you shall hear me through tomorrow 
right at which time I will show you the rest of my pictures. 



J 

EVENING THREE 
The Story of a Sky Pilot 

XVII. 

' BACK TO “NO MAN’S LAND” 

\ 


“I am always content with that which happens; 
for I think that what God chooses is better 
than what I choose.” 

—EPICTETUS 


“I have learned in whatsoever state I am, 
therewith to be content.” 

—PAUL, Phil. 4:11. 


143 




SCENES OF PARIS AND VERSAILLES 


mmw 



















BACK TO “NO MAN’S LAND” 


145 


ONCE more I was crossing France. Four times before I had 
traveled practically across the Republic, east and west. If I had 
gone over different portions every time I rode the cars I could have 
seen, the whole country. This time I rode alone. 

Buying my ticket by way of Paris I entered one of those first 
class apartments, and for most of the way had it all to myself. All 
that day it kept that French locomotive on the job to get us into 
the “hub” of the nation. And truly is Paris the “hub” for all roads 
lead there, and anywhere you start in France, the nearest way is 
through Paris. So I had plenty of time to think everything over. 

One matter I recalled was that a certain private in the 23th owed 
me 150 francs. Now that sounds like a lot of money, but was then 
only about $25. However that amount would have bought a few 
souvenirs. How the fellow came to owe me was in this way: While 
my outfit was so far away from a commissary or canteen I used to 
buy quite a supply of stuff, then sell it out to the men at whatever 
it cost me. This certain fellow wanted to help me out by disposing 
of the supplies for me, so I entrusted him with my stuff. He sold 
out, collected the money, but claimed it was stolen from him. Said 
he would surely pay it back though, just as soon as he could save it 
up. He never got any of it saved up. But he was a Jew, and that 
fact may explain matters. 

While at Brest I was approached one day by a soldier for a loan 
of five francs. I didn’t want to give it to him for I was afraid he 
wanted booze. In fact he already had about all he could stand. But 
he gave me his name and address, promising to return the money. 
Of course I never expected to get it. But just the other day I got a 
letter from that fellow with a dollar bill in it. He was like Zacchaeus; 
wanted to restore everything which did not belong to him. Woui'd 
be a good thing for everyone who has taken that which did not belong 
to him, to do likewise. 

Just before dark we passed close to the Palace of Louis XIV, at 
Versailles not far from Paris. The train stopped only a few minutes, 
but in full view of the wonderful palace which cost France so much 
money that she had hardly finished paying for it when the World War 
came on. 

As you perhaps already know the palace was built by Louis XIV in 
1661, and was occupied by him and his successors as a royal residence 
until the time of Louis Philippe, when it was converted into a national 
meuseum. The palace now contains extensive collections of statues 


146 


“OVER THERE” 


and paintings of unusual historical and artistic interest The park 
surrounding it is also of remarkable beauty, because of its numerous 
vases, statutes, terraces and fountains. 

It was here the famous treaty that closed the American Revolu¬ 
tion and gave the United States her independence was signed; in the 
French Revolution, the mob fought its way up the marble stairs and 
sacked the palace; during the winter of 1870 the king of Prussia 
made it his headquarters, and in 1871 he was there proclaimed emp¬ 
eror of Germany, as William I. 

Ridpath, in his History of the World, vividly decribes the attack 
of the mob on the Royal Palace. The new constitution had just been 
adopted abolishing serfdom, permitting the peasant 1o enjoy free 
fishing and hunting as well as the lord, and allowing all classes 
equal civil and military rights. A medal was struck representing 
Louis XVI as the restorer of the Liberty of France. 

“Again there was a momentary lull. Perhaps, if the Horn of 
Plenty couIcT have been poured upon France, the Revolution might 
have paused here, and the greatest of tragedies never been enacted. 
But, instead of plenty, there was famine. Though the New Consti¬ 
tution promised relief, it gave none—at least, none for the present 
hour. People were as hungry, as miserable, as before. A Bread Riot 
broke out in Paris, and the voice of insurrection again arose in the 
streets. The French women, long enslaved, ruined by false education, 
but glorious in their despair, rushed into the mob and became its 
leaders. They were the divinities of Fury. Humanity, in its agony, 
went forth naked to fight those who had been the cause of its misery. 

“The riot grew to tremendous proportion, and raged as it ran. 
It was a creature of impulse. Out at Versailles were the King and 
his court. There, said blind humanity, was the cause of all its woe. 
Besides, the natural man had been quick to perceive that even the 
great Constituent Assembly had been duped in several particulars. 
The veto of the king over the acts of the National Legislature had 
been allowed to stand. How, said the natural and now the hungry 
man, could the nation be free and happy if the king should retain the 
power of annuling the acts of the people’s representatives? Ah, 
that luxuroius palace out at Versailles! Ah, the riotous plenty 
which The king and his lords and ladies do there enjoy while 
we starve! Let us rush thither! Let us go by thousands! Let us 
surround that palace, and shout our demands in the startled ears of 
royalty! There, too, is that hateful Austrian, that wife of Louis 


BACK TO “NO MAN’S LAND” 


147 


Capet. See her with the ostrich plumes in her hat. How proud she 
is! How she is loved and caressed! We are women, too. But we 
are not loved and caressed. We starve, we starve! On to Versailles! 
Bring them to Paris along with the rest of us! Let them, too, bear 
the sorrows, the anguish of life! Aye, let them suffer with the rest— 
So cried the Revolution; and the mob surged out of the city ga es 
on its way to Versailles, twelve miles distant. When the insurgents 
return, they will bring the king and the court with them. What for, 
not even the mob could tell. 

“La Fayette, commandant of the National Guard, followed in the 
wake. He would fain stay the tumult. He would fain save the lives 
of the King and queen. He puts himself between the royal family 
and danger. On the evening of the 5th of October the mob reached 
Versailles. They kindle great fires in the streets, and there encamp 
for the night. In the morning they will do violence—how much, and 
what, no man can tell. The palace is guarded, but the Bastile wa's 
guarded also. 

“They who judge men by the exterior would find much to admire 
and praise in the well-dressed and well-decorated persons who on this 
October night lay down on splendid couches in the royal palacs of 
Versailles. And such judges would find little to admire or praise in 
ffie hungry mobocrats who on the same night threw themselves down 
around the camp-fires in the streets of the town. The contrast was 
sufficiently striking. The mob awoke with the dawn. There was a 
growl, an outcry, a rush for the palace. Two of the Swiss guards 
were cut down at their posts. A company of the insurgents broke 
into the apartments of the queen, foaming with exercration. The 
sentinel defended the door as best he could. He rushed into the 
queen’s chamber, and cried out: ‘Save the Queen! They will have 
her life! I stand alone against two thousand tigers!’ The figure 
was well chosen. They were human tigers—and hungry. 

“The queen had escaped to the apartments of the king. Behold 
Marie Antoinette, daughter of Maria Theresa, wife of the reigning 
Bourbon, flying like a spectre through the halls, her hair disheav- 
eled, her person exposed to the night wind. Poor ghost of the pasfT 
The king, too, was up and trying to save his family. His guards 
took him to the apartment where the queen was. There the children 
were gathered; and the house of Capet sat trembling while the guards 
of the palace were killed by the mob. 



HO*; 


148 “OVER THERE” 

‘In the moment of extreme peril, La Fayette faced the mob, and 
was heard 1 . ‘To Paris with the king!’ they shouted. He told them 
that the king should indeed go with them back to Paris. The queen 
also - and ‘the court should go. Louis was obliged to submit. The 
royal carriage was brought forth, and the mob appointed a guard of 
honor to act as an escort! The heads of two of the real guards were 
stuck on pikes and carried in the procession. For six hours the- 
brutal triumph of savage liberty wound its way toward, the ca.pital. 
All Paris arose a! the coming of the royal car. The city was illumi¬ 
nated^ and the nigjit made glorious. The nation had taken the. king. 
He was lodged in the Tuileries. What was he? A prisoner.” 

That.tyas a bad day for the king. But it goes to prove that the 
people, common people, feel that they have rights as well, as others. 
Therefore, the right of suffrage was decreed to all,citizens of prance. 
All titles were abolished, and all were op. the same footing—except 
the clergy. More than fifty thousand of them were deprived of their 
property and set adrift for refusing to sweap allegiance under the 
nCw constitution. That was a bad day for the preachers, also. : 

After dark our train pulled into one of the stations of 3?aris. This 
time f was up against it,, since no English-speaking person was along 
from whom I could get information regarding a hotel. But the ‘‘red 
cabs” were there to meet the trains, so I allowed one of their drivers, 
to take my handbag, and I followed. 

That night I stayed in the hotel Du Louvre. Had a fine night’s, 
rest on a lovely bed, then rose to see the sights—some of thqm. 
Paris is too large a city to see in a day, all the time I was supposed 
to" stay there. That would cause me to leave on the night train. 
But in my sight-seeing excitement I failed to make connection that 
night, so had to remain over till early next morning. How I ever 
prevailed on the mercy of the A. T. O. is beyond my understanding, 
but I got by without serious trouble. About all we had time to see 
during the one day in Paris were the sights along the Seine River,, 
where Paris began on an island long before the Roman invasion; so 
will tell you what I saw that day. 

Yes, the city was begun on this island more than two thousand 
years ago by a tribe of Gauls called Parish. Later the city was 
called Lutetia by the Romans. The Royal residences was fixed here 
by Hugh Capet. In the 4th century the city was still confined to the 
island and was protected by a fortified wall, the remains of which 
were discovered in 1829. The island is shaped like a boat, with its 



BACK TO “NO MAN’S LAND” 149 

prow down stream; whence the heraldic device of Paris is a bpat. 
Up to the 17th century Paris was divided in the popular mind into 
three parts: the town (or rRight bank), the University (of Left - 
bank), and the Cite’. ... . 

I stood on the Pont-Neuf (New Bridge), which is/jreally the oldest 
in the city, and is thrown across the bows of rtheu?bP&t-island. The 
bridge was begun in 1578 and finished in 1603, when that, spectacular 
King Henri IV reigned. • ... ; 

In the 17th and 18th centuries, those years of transition in the 
annals of Paris and France, the Pont Neuf* was a gossiping place 
frequented by gallant squires and courtly da me s-^ as welly to be sure, 
of persons of lesser degree—and the favorite market-place of the 
merchants. Like London Bridge in olden times, the Pont Neuf was 
half covered with shops of fancy goods dealers, such as you see at 
the fairs today. ■ . - 

A fine view is obtained' from the bridge looking down stream. 
There is the Louvre (an art gallery);, a quarter of a mile long, on .the 
North bank. The iron foot bridge nearest down stream is the Pont 
des Arts, leading from the Louvre to the Institute. There are two 
other bridges beyond. In fact, it seemed to me, I never saw so many 
bridges in my life, there being one across the Seine at about every 
block. Now we will look up stream. 

On the right is the Palais de Justice, which I visited while there, 
and saw the court in session. Those judges looked about as wise 
as those in America do. They were thoughtful, quiet and dignified. 

I could see also the Saint Chapelle, a building set apart for the burial 
place of certain great saints. Also there' - was the Pont au Change 
(Bridge of the Money-changers) leading from the island to the Palace 
du Chatelet. 

As I left the bridge and turned down the Boulevard du Palais I 
came to the Clock Tower, which was built in 1370 (some authorities 
say 1298). It is probably the oldest clock in France. A few yards 
further on I came to the great iron gates of the Palais de Justice, 
opening into the Court of May, so called from the Maypole which 
was planted there annually in olden times by the law students. 

Before going back to my hotel that night I went through the Notre- 
Dame cathedral, begun in 1163, the first stone being laid by Pope 
Alexander III in person, and consecrated twenty years later. Ages 
before that, however, a Roman temple dedicated to Jupither stood 
there on the spot. After Christanity had been established in France 


150 


“OVER THERE” 


churches became numerous on this small island, and two were 
abolished to make way for the Notre-Dame. One of these was dedi¬ 
cated to St. Stephen, and many souvenirs of the saint are still found 
in the old cathedral. 

Would that I had time just here to tell you what I saw and learned 
about the Notre-Dame, but time forbids. However, when we come 
back to Paris on leave, we will have some good stories to tell you 
about things we saw there. 

The car in which I rode that day took a spin around the city, 
and I got a general impression of things, but could not see much in 
so short a time. One could spend a week in Paris, and like New 
York City, it is so large and interesting you would get only a limited 
view of the sights. 

Behold, when we did get in, supper over, I inquired about my train 
and found I would not have time to make connection. I was a little 
scared up, for the law was strict. You could stay only twenty-four 
hours. But I took a chance. 

So next morning I had to take the subway, go several miles to the 
station where my baggage was, had an awful time getting it trans¬ 
ferred, and when at last I got to the station, I was late. 

In the next chapter I will tell you how I came out. 


“I’m glad the sky is painted blue; 

And the earth is painted green; 
And such a lot of nice fresh air 
All sandwiched in between.” 


XVIII. 

RED CROSS—MOTHER OF SOLDIERS 


“Ah, how skillful grows the hand 
That obeyeth Love’s command! 

It is the heart, and not the brain, 

That the highest doth attain, 

And he who followeth Love’s behest 
Far cxcelleth all the rest!” 

—LONGFELLOW 


151 




REFUGEES CARED FOR BY RED CROSS 











RED CROSS—MOTHER OF SOLDIERS 


153 


YES, I got to the station too late to catch my train, all because 
that crazy cab driver was so slow. And, too, because of an argument 
between us over the rate he charged me. 

Having arrived at the station where my stuff was my first diffi¬ 
culty after collecting my belongings was to get them transferred 
three miles to another place where I was to board my train. Being 
early there was no drayman at the station, so I phoned for one. As 
usual, he made no particular haste to get there. And when he did 
come, and I found out that he wanted ten francs, I said that it seemed 
too high, but put the stuff on quickly. When we began carrying it 
out to the cab he stopped, looked puzzled, and said: 

“Misseur, bocoupe baggage,” meaning that it was a. bigger load 
than he had thought. 

I told him that we could put it all in his cab I thought, and that 
I must hurry. 

Then he answered me by saying that he thought he could haul it 
all right, but that it was so much larger load than he had anticipated, 
he would have to have fifteen francs instead of ten. 

Right there we came near having a disagreement. I thought he 
had asked enough at the beginning, but now wanted more. Bu; when 
he began unloading my baggage I protested, saying that it would be 
all right since I must lose no time. 

Upon arriving at the other station I found my train waiting, but 
not for me, for before I could get a ticket, check baggage and get 
checked out by the A. T. O. she pulled out. However, I think I would 
have made it had I not been compelled to wait in line so long, then 
jacked up by the lieutenant of the A. T. O. 

You see at every railroad station our army had a transportation 
officer whose duty it was to check over the orders of all soldiers 
traveling to see that they were not stealing time on them. Well, I 
got held up by one of these fellows. He noticed at once that I had 
been in Paris more than twenty-four hours, and demanded an ex¬ 
planation. Then I had to tell him all about why I was late, declaring 
up and down that I stayed in the night before, and that it was all 
the French cab driver’s fault. 

“But,” said he sternly, “You should have gone out on last night’s 
train. I will turn you over to the captain.” 

After putting up a powerful “speal” to the captain he gave me 
my orders and told me to beat it. Put I couldn’t then. The said 
locomotive had already pulled out. Then I waited some more. 


154 


“ 0 V E R 


THERE” 



Oh, how i wished I was back with the 25th. That traveling busi¬ 
ness alone was not so pleasant at times. This was especially true 
from Paris on to my new outfit, the location of which I had not yet 
learned. So I went by way of Chaumont, headquarters of the A. E. F., 
to find out. 

We were on the road to Chaumont thirty-six hours, the main cause 
of its taking so much time being long stops in the night. At one 
time we were stopped three hours, and oftentimes one and two hours 
were killed on a siding. But finally we pulled into the city, and I 
went with two other fellows I had fallen in with to the Y. M. C. A. 
hut where we found nobody up at such an early hour, but the door 
being unlocked we went in, took possession and built us a roaring 
fire and went to sleep by it. 

When morning came we took breakfast there, and I then went out 
to army headquarters to locate my new division. This I soon did and 
was again on my way to join it. 

But a change had to be made at Dijon, and that after several 
hours of waiting in the nighttime. So the first thing necessary after 
arriving there about midnight was to find a lodging place. I went 
to all the hotels I could find. They were full up, or rather could raise 
nobody, so went to the “Y” canteen. The fellow said there was not 
a place left. There was one more chance—that was the Red Cross. 

Down close to the station I found the hut where I got some hot 
coffee and sandwiches for almost nothing, so much cheaper than I 
had ever been able to get “eats” before from the “Y” or French restau¬ 
rants. Those women were so kind. It was not long before I was 
asleep in the hotel in charge of the Red Cross. 

The American Red Cross is the perfected instrument for the relief 
of suffering. As such it found its greatest use in the world war. 

“Great Britain was the first nation which oreanis*^ such relief, 
when Florence Nightingale was sent by the War Office to the hospi¬ 
tals of Scutari. This was during the Crimean War in 1854. Ac¬ 
companying Miss Nightingale were 38 nurses, and when they reached 
Scutari they found veritable pest houses, with open sewers beneath 
the buildings. Contagions were taking the men by the thousands. 
With her inherent ability for organization, Miss Nightingale brought 
order out of chaos in such a short time, and with such remarkable 
success, that she won undying fame as one of the greatest individual 
organizers of the war relief. 


RED CROSS—MOTHER OF SOLDIERS 


155 


“In 1861, or just seven years after Great Britain sent her angels 
of mercy to the battlefield, the first proposals for an international 
organization to care for the sick and wounded were made. These 
were offered by Heri Dunant, a Swiss physician. Dr. Dunant had 
organized a group of volunteers to care for the wounded on the battle¬ 
field of Solferino, Italy, in 1859, and the results had been very grati¬ 
fying. Great confusion and consequent inefficiency, however, pre¬ 
vailed because of the multiplicity of relief flags, and Dr. Dunant at 
once recognized this fact. 

“Under the direction of Miss Nightingale, Dr. Dunant formulated 
plans for an international organization to care for the sick and 
wounded, and these he submitted before the Geneva Society of 
Public Utilities. He suggested a single and uniform hospital flag for 
all the nations, among other things. In 1864 an International Con¬ 
ference of fourteen nations was held in Geneva, Switzerland, the out¬ 
come of which was the treay of Geneva, known as the Red Cross 
Treaty. 

“In this treaty it is provided that hospital formations and their 
personnel should be treated as neutrals. How well Germany observed 
these provisions we all know by the dastardly attacks her land and 
sea forces made on the Red Cross units during the recent war. Every 
one of the nations signing the treaty agreed to have an association 
of volunteers to assist and supplement the medical organization of 
that country. 

“The emblem chosen, and which it was agreed should be inter¬ 
national in scope, was the cross of red on a field of white. This 
emblem is the Swiss flag with the colors reversed, and was adopted 
in recognition of the fact that Dr. Dunant was Swiss, and that the 
Red Cross was founded at Geneva. 

“Official sanction of a Red Cross organization in the United 
States was given when, in July 1881, ‘The American association of 
the Red Cross’ was incorporated in the District of Columbia. Miss 
Clara Barton was the first president. The United States Senate con¬ 
firmed the Treaty of Geneva in March, 1882. In June, 1900, the 
American Red Cross was incorporated and granted a new charter, 
since in force. This charter provided for a; permanent governing 
body, called the Central Committee, numbering 18 persons. 

“Although not a Government department, the American Red Cross 
is a relief organization with government sanction, and, as such, assists 
the army and navy whenever called upon to help care for the wounded 


156 


“OVER THERE” 


and suffering. The president of the United States is the president 
of the Red Cross by election of the Central Committee, and not, as is 
often thought, by virtue of his office as Chief Executive of the United 
States. Representatives of the State, Treasury, War, Justice and 
Navy Departments are members of the Central Committee. All Red 
Cross accounts are audited by the War Department, and an annual 
report is made to Congress by the Secretary of War. The national 
headquarters of the American Red Cross is at Washington. 

‘‘During the world war there were thirteen division headquarters 
in thirteen large centers of the United States, and one in Washington 
in charge of the territory outside of the United States; approximately 
3,500 chapters, with about 15,000 branches and a great many auxil¬ 
iaries; an adult membership of over 22,000,000 and a junior member¬ 
ship of several million school children. All home actitivies are under 
the direct supervision of these divisions, the work abroad being car¬ 
ried on by the War Council through commissions in all . the allied 
countries. 

“Membership dues supply all the funds for the conduct of the 
entire Red Cjoss organization, including the payment of salaries and 
all. overhead, expenses used in the conduct of national and division 
headquarters, local chapters, braches and auxiliaries. War relief is 
paid for. out of the Red Cross War Fund. No expenses of administra¬ 
tion in the Unitqd States are paid for out of the War Fund. When a 
dollar is contributed for relief that dollar goes for relief. 

“During , the war Red C,rqss. commissions were sent to the various 
countries in .Europe for... military and civilian relief abroad. In 
America the fourteen division headquarters counducted a similar 
work of relief. Thus it was that the War Council administered the 
finances of the organization. Approximately. $45,000,000 was used 
during the first year that America was in the war, in .Europe alone, 
for relief .work, while in the United States there was nearly $12,000,- 
000 spent, for relief work in the country’s hospitals. and military 
bases. Government figures show, that, in all, the total appropriations 
made for humane work by this organization of America, when this 
countiry had been in the war but one year, was more than $100,000,000. 

“Unprecedented sums have been raised and applied through the 
organization for humanitarian work. When America entered the war 
the fund: balances in the coffers; of the Red Cross at Washington 
amounted to little more than three million dollars, whereas, in th3 
face of remarkable expeditures, there was, at the end of the war. 


RED CROSS—MOTHER OF SOLDIERS 


157 


more than fifty millions of dollars in the treasury. Because of the 
remarkable financing by the governing bodies of the organization 
more than $1.01 has been made available for war relief for every 
dollar contributed for that purpose. 

“Before the soldier eyer reaches the battlefield he is befriended by 
the Red Cross through three agencies—camp, canteen and sanitary 
service. Emergency aid of all descriptions, and such work as the 
distribution of sweaters, helmets, mufflers, socks and various kits are 
rendered at training camps, cantonments and naval stations, Red 
Cross warehouses being maintained at military bases. Represent¬ 
atives of the Red Cross continually, visit hospitals at these places, 
and render all possible assistance to disabled soldiers,” 

The Red Cross did telling work up behind the lines carirg for 
wounded soldiers. You could see here, and there up at the front the 
hospitals in which those nurses worked untiringly to gave the lives 
of. wounded soldiers and give them comfort. Sometimes funny things, 
as well as gerious, occured in those places of. suffering. I heard: Dr 
George Truett, pastor First Baptist Church, Dallas, relate this amus¬ 
ing story which happened at a Red Cross hospital where he was. 

The fjthful nurse was giving first,, aid. .tp. a,.number ; of .men, who 
had just been brought in.woun^d, apme of them severely and possibly 
fatally. She. fixed the . first all up^ctimty, drew the covers around, 
planted a kiss on the dear fellow’^ forehead, lheji passed to the next 
bed. After this loving service had been rendered the second man the 
nurse asked kindly, <r Now is ^ there anything else I can do for you 
before leaving, my dear fellpvy?” . 

With the ..trace of a .sprite on hi.s, face the suffering map replied* 
“There is, just one thing else,” 

“And what might it be?” anxiously inquired the good woman. 
“You didn’t kiss me,” was the answer. 

Then the nurse smiling, replied curtly, “Oh, I’ll call the crderly 
to do that. He attends to all the rough work around here.” 

In appreciation of the work of the .American Red Cross for Eng¬ 
land, the following communication, signed by Lloyd George, was re¬ 
ceived from the British Government: ' 

“I should like personally 1o express our profound appreciation 
of the action of the American Red Cross in* contributing $1,000,000 to 
the funds of the British Red Cress. It is a gift characteristic of tin 
generous and friendly heart of the American people. It will bring 
relief to thousands of suffering men and women, and will be a further 



158 


“OVER THERE” 

means of strengthening the real understanding between the United 
States and Great Britain, which the former’s whole-hearted entry in 
the war for liberty has created. I know that I am expressing the 
thought dominant in the minds of my fellow countrymen when I say 
that they will always remember the gift with gratitude/’ 

Much attention was given by this goodly organization to the 
French and Belgian refugees, there being at one time a million and 
a half of these scattered throughout the country. Among them were 
men, women and children of all ages and classes of society. In 
Paris alone there were at one time three-quarters of a million of 
such homeless people. Also the Red Cross supplied medical aid to 
the civilians since French doctors had become scare, there being 
7 ; 200 out of 23,000 having fallen in battle within three years. Many 
times as many as 25,000 people lived in a district, without a competent 
physician during the war. 

The Red Cross was such a blessing to the wounded and sick men 
so far from home that it has been called, “The Mother of Soldiers,” 
which is indeed a very fitting title. But besides aid given by human 
beings the Red Cross adopted the dog as one of its helpful workers. 
He was a real dog of war. 

After giving first aid these dogs would race back to headquar'ers, 
where by a series of barks, they enlisted their human comrades. 
How many thousands of lives were saved during the war will never 
be known, but in one hospital alone there is a record of 3,000 having 
been saved through their efforts. 


“Let us then be up and doing, 
With a heart for any fate; 
Still achieving, still pursuing, 
Learn to labor and to wait.” 


—LONGFELLOW 


XIX. 

ON DUTY WITH INFANTRY 


\ 


“O God, All conquering! this lower earth 
Would for men be the blest abode of mirth 
If they were strong in Thee, 

And other things of this world are seen; 

Oh, then, far other than they yet have been. 
How happy would men be.” 

—From KING ALFRED 


159 










MEN OF THE S09TH ON FIRING LINE 






ON DUTY WITH INFANTRY 


161 


HAVING left Dijon about middle of the morning I figured that I 
would arrive at the headquarters of the Lightning Division long be¬ 
fore night, but alas, I got on the wrong train. Instead of going 
toward my outfit I went directly opposite. But it wasn’t exactly my 
fault, for I asked the Chef de Gare which was my train, and he told 
me to get on the one nearest the station. But he thought I wanted 
to go south instead of north. 

I must have gone half way to the coast before having a chance to 
get off, and when I did it was hours and hours before a train going 
back stopped. Finally, when it was almost night, I boarded the right 
train and rolled into the station nearest my division after midnight. 

Next day I caught a ride on one of the 78’s trucks going into- 
division f headquarters where I reported for duty, and within a few 
minutes I was sent over to headquarters of the 309th Infantry, and 
from there to the 2nd Battalion. Within a little while I was acquaint¬ 
ed with the location of all three battalions of the regiment, and so 
began work at once. 

While in that area my duties consist'd of the following three 
phases of work: holding services with the different companies, visit¬ 
ing sick men in the hospitals, and hiking with the fellows to gun 
practice and maneuvers. And I might add hiking to town for sup¬ 
plies, such as papers, stationery and books for my fellows. 

I got “all set” in a nice billet on second floor of a French home. 
My little room had a good bed, oil lamp and fire grate. And Major 
Jones furnished me with an orderly! Something I had not had before. 
But I kept Joe very busy, not altogether keeping my room, but helping 
me otherwise. Joe and I became pretty close friends. 

Joe Arceneux was of French descent, however he was born in one 
of the New England states. He could speak French fluently, and 
because of that, was a very great help to me in learning more about 
the French people than I would otherwise have learned. I could 
send Joe to division headquarters, or go with him, to get anything 
I needed. And if any French had to be spoken my “side kick” was 
right there with the goods. 

Joe was often invked into my landlady’s home to dine with the 
family, because, as he told me, the woman said she had lost her only 
son in the war and wanted to do something for Joe. Being back 
where there were a few French families left the fellows often got 
invited out into the homes of the people, and this was certainly a 
change from the regular army far*. But I, myself, a.te with the of- 


162 


"OVER THERE” 

ficers mosf of the time, and they generally had a few extras. 

One of my battalions was six miles from me, and the companies 
of the second battalion were also badly scattered. Two were in the 
village where I was stationed, one twenty minutes walk and the 
fourth ten minutes walk. At these three places I preached every 
Sunday morning, and then went to the other battalion headquarters 
in the afternoon. 

On these hikes my song leader, Arthur Proctor, generally went 
with me. He was one of the best songsters it was my privilege to 
get in touch with while in the service. And besides being up on 
music he was simply a fine fellow with it. He told me about his 
Christian experience. 

Arthur had not been a Christian very long before entering the 
war. He had gambled, “cussed” and followed the low life according 
to his statement. But when he turned he cut loose from that life 
for good. In these words he told me about the conversion of his 
sister: 

“She had attended the revival, seemingly without being affected 
in the least. We were all anxious about her, but something was in 
the way. But at the last service, and while we were singing the last 
stanza of the last song, she came full fledged. Her remarks to me 
as we walked home that night arm in arm, were to the effect that 
she had been a doubter, but that she had never doubted my Christian 
life since I changed. It was my life, she said, that she could not get 
away from.” 

And then Proctor closed with this remark: “I tell you, chaplain, 
I wouldn’t take a fortune for that experience. To realize that my life 
won somebody else makes me feel happy.” 

At this place where I went Sunday afternoon to have service wa 3 
a Catholic chaplain. I paid him a visit, but somehow there was not 
the congeniality between us that existed between other chaplains end 
myself. I had nothing against the “Pilot,” and he had nothing 
against me. I think it was the man instead of his religion, for he 
was egotistic. 

The officers of this fellow’s outfit said he gambled, and when it 
came to cognac, he was the heaviest drinker of them all. They told 
this tale on him: 

One of his men came up to his room to get'Hite chaplain to pray 
for him, but was told to come back at another time, as he was very 
busy just then. And the kind of business he Was engaged in was 





ON DUTY WITH INFANTRY 


168 


playing cards with some other officers. Poker p’aying was common 
among army officers, but poor business for chaplains. But, as so 
many told me, it was different in the war, and they did things over 
there they would never do back home. That line was handed out to 
me, not only by officers, but by others as well. 

Touching this point a chaplain once asked me, “Why, haven’t you 
learned to smoke cigarettes yet?” 

“No,” 1 replied, “I didn’t smoke at home, and I don’t smoke yet.” 

“Well,” said he, “I took it up after entering the service, but I 
may have to quit when 1 return to my charge, for I don’t b lieve my 
folks will stand for it.” 

The cigarette habit was one of the worst in the army. That is 
nearly every man smoked. To be in a hut at night closed up was 
ten times more stifling than being in any smoker I ever saw. Many 
a fellow who had never smoked before learned how in the army. 
There were other habits, too, acquired in the army. Swearing was 
just about as prevalent as the use of cigarettes. But those fellows 
didn’t mean any harm by it. And they were as polite as could be 
expected when their chaplain was around. I scarcely ever entered 
a hut or billet but what I heard some fellow say in an undertone, 
“Shew, fellows, the chaplain!” 

There was quite a lot of flu among my men, so at times I had 
all I could do visiting them, carrying with me magazines and hot 
chocolate. At my battalion the hospital for the convalescents was 
an old chateau, set back from the street about a hundred yards, 
surrounded with trees and shrubbery of various kinds. There we 
had from a few to twenty-five men with the “flu,” and these we 
furnished with “hot stuff” made down at the “Y” canteen. Mr. 
Briggs, who was in charge of the “Y” there, and his helpers made 
the cocoa and I went along with them. Under my arms I carried 
books, papers, magazines and writing material for those not too sick 
to use them. Of course my dinky little movie outfit came in handy 
for entertainment; and I often held religious service for the fellows 
thus enclosed, either on Sunday morning or night, or, if no chance 
on Sunday one night in the week. Thus I had an opportunity to 
keep fn close touch with our men who had answered sick call, but 
whose troubles were not serious enough to send them to the hospital 
at division headquarters. 

Nearly every day there were letters to be written for the fellows 
to their folks back home, or some other matter to care for. One of 


164 


“OVER THERE 


the fellows told me that he had just received word that his brother 
had been killed in action several weeks before, and that his people 
did not know about it. It became my duty to break the news to 
those dear parents back home. A melancholy duty, indeed! 

On another occasion I had gone into the hut where the convales¬ 
cents were to hold service. The fellows had received their mail that 
morning, so I waited for them to finish reading the good news from 
home. But. the news was not always good. At least one young fel¬ 
low, a boy barely twenty-one, seemed to be in trouble. I went over 
to his side to find out the trouble. He was so filled with emotion he 
could not break the news intelligently, so just handed me the le ter 
to read. I soon found that his mother was dead, having been taken 
four months back with the awful influenza. The letter, though writ¬ 
ten shortly after the sad occurrence, had followed the bereaved boy 
all over France before reaching him. These are two among the many 
hundreds of sad things which happened to the men of my outfits. We 
turn now to another matter. 

In this chateau the officers had their dances. They kept on after 
me to go until I consented. Well, it was a very civil affair so long 
as I stayed. But not being “capable” ol enjoying such myself, I re- 
fired at my usual time. The dancers stayed on nobody knows how 
long. I would never have known that the affair was carried on 
disgracefully had I not heard the report at morning mess. One of 
the officers was absent, so that started the talk. 

“Where is Lieutenant-?” asked one. 

“Oh, he’s on sick list today,” answered another. 

“What’s the matter with him?” inquired the first. 

Then fhe second speaker told the story: “Well, weren’t you ^hcre? 

You should have seen old --make a high dive. He got 

so drunk he didn’t know what he was doing, so he undertook to dive 
from a chair and struck his head against the rock wall. We gave 
him first aid and carried him to his billet.” Then added, “Oh, we 
sure did have a great time!” 

I learned, too, that some of the Y. M. C. A. women brought to 
the dance from headquarters got so drunk they had to be carried 
by the men out to the cars, and then, according to the words of the 
driver, they whooped and raised cane all the way back. Booze has 
an awful influence over some people. And yet, they say it doesn’t 
hurt them! Here are some facts and figures. 




ON DUTY WITH INFANTRY 


165 


Why do life insurance companies always ask the question, Does 
the applicant use alcoholic liquors. If he does the chances are that 
he will be turned down by the company. And if accepted, a higher 
rate will be charged him than the abstainer. The objection of the 
life insurance companies is, that people addicted to alcoholics have a 
lower mortality rate. They are subject to disease or sickness which 
might prove fatal any time. 

You have noticed, have you not, that fleshy people do not undergo 
a spell of sickness or an operation so successfully as do thin ones. 
If this flesh is produced by drink or any other unnatural and other¬ 
wise hurtful habit, their power of resistance is weakened. 

“In a recent Investigation, including forty-three American life 
insurance companies, the combined experience on users of alcohol 
has been compiled, with very interesting results. It may be sub¬ 
divided as follows: 

“First: Those who were accepted as standard risks but who gave 
a history of occasional alcoholic excess in the past. The mortality 
in this group was 5b per cent, in excess of the mortality of insured 
lives in general, equivalent to a reduction of over four years in the 
average lifetime of the group. 

“Second: Individuals who took two glasses of beer, or a glass of 
whiskey, or other alcoholic equivalent, each day. In this group the 
mortality was 18 per cent, in excess of the average. 

“Third: Men who indulge more freely than the preceding group, 
but who are considered acceptable as standard insurance risks. In 
this group the mortality was 86 per cent, in excess of the average. 
In short, we find the following increase of mortality over the average 
death rate among insured risks generally: 

Steady moderate drinkers but accepted as standard risks, 86 per cent. 


Having past excesses _50 per cent 

Very moderate drinkers_18 per cent. 


“This means that steady drinkers who exceed two glasses of beer 
or one glass of whiskey daily are not, on the evidence, entitled to 
standard insurance, but should be charged a heavy extra premium. 

“In these groups, the death rate from Bright’s disease, pneumonia 
and suicide were higher than the normal.” 

I never heard of a dance overseas where they had no booze. The 
same is true in civil life, especially with public dances. The very 
first dance that I have any recollection of was given in honor of the 
section foreman of the road where we lived at the time. He had 




166 


“OVER THERE” 


just married his second wife, a very old man he was, too, so they 
gave him a grand affair. But to cap it all one of his men got so 
beastly drunk, and raised so much sand, that (he fellows carried 
him bodily to the stock pen, pitched him into the weeds and burrs, 
and left him the remainder of the night. I can still hear that poor fel¬ 
low bellowing like a dying cow out there in the dark. Oh, you say it 
was whiskey that did it; and so it was. 

I pity the man who is a slave to strong drink. I am for him pro¬ 
vided he longs to gsf away from it. If he is so blind that he does not 
know the harmful effects he has my sympathy. But the fellow who 
willfully and maliciously indulges in the stuff, makes, buys or sells 
bootleg whiskey, is a detriment to good morals and good governm nt. 
Nothing but the power of Almighty God can break deamon rum in 
a man’s life and set him free. 

t am here reminded of the story of Old Born Drunk, as told by 
Begbie in TWICE BORN MEN. 

O. B. B., born of drunken parents, followed in their footsteps. At 
the age of forty, selling papers for a scanty living, weary and dis- 
guested with life he Uropped into the Salvation Army hall in London. 
To make a long story short he found the Lord who saved him. All his 
associates found it out of course, and when seen on the streets next 
day selling papers, was teased by them shamefuPy. In the saloon they 
offerecTThe old fellow drinks, but he refused. One threw a glass of 
liquor in his face, but the ex-drunkard walked out quietly saying, 
‘•Lord, have mercy on them, for they know not what they do”; then 
he went on his way rejoicing in the Lord. 



“LIGHTNING” HITS GRANDPRE’ 






“He that overcometh hath power in the nations 
Stronger than steel is the sword of the Spirit; 
Swifter than arrows, the light of the truth; 
Greater than anger is love that subdueth.” 

—LONGFELLOW 


167 




GRANDPRE’ AS TAKEN BY THE 78TH DIVISION 














“LIGHTNING” HITS GRANDPRE’ 


169 


THE Seventy-eighth (Lightning) Divnsion had shown its fighting 
ability in the St. Mihiel sector, where its casualties totaled 2,107 in 
seventeen days, of whom 329 were killed or died of wounds. 

Then the division moved into the Agonne, and the Division P. C. 
was established at Verennes, around and beyond which place I had 
gone with the 25th Engineers. Then the 78th was ordered to relieve 
the 77th, which was on the Grandpre’-St. Juvin sector. There were 
two chief strongholds against which operations in this sector must be 
directed—the Bois des Loges and Grandpre’, where some stiff fight¬ 
ing took place. An order came for the attack to begin at 6 A. M. 

The attack was made as ordered, the 309th Infantry, with two 
battalions .advancing on the Bois des Loges from the southeast, 
through mud at times knee deep. The 310th, whose relief was de¬ 
layed, came up and joined the 309th and got a stronghold in the 
Bois des Loges. The 311th Infantry had got into position in time to 
attack through the mist at 6:35 A. M. without any definite infor¬ 
mation as to where the enemy’s line was. Some prisoners were 
taken, and the advance continued to the Aire. Some troops were 
pushed across the stream at this point against heavy machine-gun 
fire. The 312th Infantry, when it reached Grandpre’, found the troops 
of the 77th Division had attacked, and the relief was completed while 
the fighting went on in the southern part of the town. 

“When the 2nd Battalion of the 312th Infantry under Major 
Mallory advanced to relieve the 77th Division units in the town of 
Grandpre,” says the operation’s report, “the enemy was found to oc¬ 
cupy the whole citadel and was still in partial possession of the rest 
of the town. In some of the houses the enemy held the upper stories, 
thus a sort of perpendicular warfare ensued. Before the relief could 
be completed thirty-four prisoners had been made, and it took almost 
two days of house-to-house fighting before the lower part of the town 
was captured. 

“According to reports reinforcements from two companies of 2nd 
Battalion, 3Tlth, were sent up one night to strengthen the rather 
thinly held line and to assist in ‘mopping up’ the woods and gaining 
complete control of Grandpre’. A severe enemy barrage and a 
counter attack by infantry and machine guns along the north of Hill 
204 delayecTThe finishing touch on these operations until morning. 
The connection with the troops in Grandpre’ was made just before 
the relief of the 312th Infantry by the 311th had been completed, and„ 


170 


“OVER THERE” 

. J - . ♦ 

by the establishment of this connection, the reduction of the strong¬ 
hold of Grandpre’ was ended.” 

With the situation in the vicinity of Grandpre’ cleared up, the 
First American Army was in position to begin the sceond phase of 
the attack—the culmination triumph of the American Army, whicn 
brought our troops to the doors of Sedan. 

The 78th Division lost heavily in the Argonne. Right after go¬ 
ing into position near Grandpre’ the 2nd Battalion of the 309th In¬ 
fantry, of which I became chaplain, sustained a severe loss. Battalion 
headquarters were struck by an enemy shell, killing several men, in¬ 
cluding the sergeant-major, and wounding a score. But the division 
captured 322 prisoners, of whom six were officers and thirty-six non¬ 
commissioned officers. 

These prisoners were kept guarded in a wire pen where I stayed 
several nights around the 1st of November. It was close to Grand¬ 
pre’ in the edge of a forest. I was awakened in the nighttime by the 
noise made when they were brought in by the boys. My shack was 
right at the edge of the pen. And it was muddy out there, too. All 
the rest of the night I could hear those prisoners jabbering and their 
guards swearing at them. 

The shack I lodged in had been built and used by Germans, then 
in Turn by the French and Americans. One end was shot out, but the 
hole was stopped by a pice of roofing paper. In this hut there was 
a stove, and a bed upon which I spread my bunk and slept. It was 
not built just like the French or American army beds, with wire 
stretched over the top of the railings, but the sides were deep. Like 
you would take twelve-inch'boards for the sides and ends of your bed, 
then nail the woven wire underneath. So you see I couldn’t roll off. 
A spring ran underneath the brick' shack, and wound its way off 
down the hill. In this we washed our rubber boots, as it was fit for 
nothing else. 

All the water we drank over there was “doped” with chlorine to 
purify it. It tasted a little rancid, but was better than getting dis¬ 
ease germs from water unpurified. I suppose the reason so many 
men took to cognac, was the distasteful water. That was why I 
drank so much coffee—I must have drunk a barrel or two! 

One of our lieutenants dropped in to chat with me One night, 
and related an exciting experience of how he g6t' his wounds. Said 
he: “See that scar there in my shoulder,” opening back his shirt. 
“That happened one night a short time ago as I was out on scout 







“LIGHTNING” HITS GRANDPRE’ 


171 


duty. Just about dusk I reached the edge of the woods and started 
out in the open. I halted awhile, looked all about, but neither hear¬ 
ing nor seeing anyone, I wound my way along quietly on my ex¬ 
plorations. But first thing I knew I stumbled upon a squad of Ger¬ 
mans. Oh my! if it had been day I think they could have seen me 
turn pink under the gills. But I lost no time getitng from there. 
I had run only a few yards when they began to fire at me. I made 
straight for the woods, but found ' upon reaching cover, that I was 
hurt somewhere. Having reached headquarters, I was sent to the 
hospital where they took out the bullet.” 

While the 309th Infantry were on the lines near Grandpre’ this 
touching story happened: The boys were in the trenches preparing 
to go over the top upon the arrival of “zero hour.” That hour arrived 
and part of the company went over, the others stayed back for a 
later attack. Some of the fellows first going over were wounded; 
one very badly close to the trench. He could be heard saying, “Fel¬ 
lows, come and get me! help! help!” But orders were given the 
men to keep their heads down, for ihe enemy machine-gun bullets 
were frying just over the top like mad. After the poor wounded and 
dying man hacT called a few moments—doubtless seemed like an hour 
to him and his buddies—his voice grew weaker and weaker. Then 
he finally pleaded his last time, “Mother! oh, mother! you come 
after me!” 

And his mother would have waded through death to rescue her 
boy, had she been there. The mothers of America have certainly 
impressed themselves upon the memory of their brave lads who 
fought, and died—many of them—on the fields of France. 

There was one lad of the 309th not so brave when he first went 
into the fight in the Argonne. And he was not by himself when I 
say that he felt “shaky” when those shells fell in his vicinity. But 
this soldier went all to pieces every time the shelling started. How¬ 
ever, he got braver and braver as he neared the trenches. He was 
one of those soldiers who said he knew he’d get bumped off once he 
got in range of the enemy. But the day came for this young fellow’s 
battalion to go over. The lieutenant led the way; the feint-hearted 
boy lingered. But upon seeing his officer fall a few yards out there 
the solidier climbed over the top, rescued his commander, but in doing 
so received his death wound. The officer got well. 

The battle of Grandpre’ did not end with the evacuation of that 
city by the enemy. It was continued at Nice, Paris, other French 


172 


“OVER THERE” 


resorts, and is a favorite pastime in this country. “Who captured 
Grandpre\” is a question much disputed. The 77th and 78th Divisions 
with equal ardor claim the honor. Perishing tactfully gives each one 
the credit and does not settle the controversy. 

The history of the 77th Division, published by the association of 
that division, claims the credit for the 77th. The 78th claims to have 
gone into the city while the enemy was still there, and had a week 
of almost continuous fighting. The credit for the capture of Grand¬ 
pre’ is given to the 78th Division by Captain Arthur D. Hatzell, writ¬ 
ing at General Headquarters with all official information before him. 
His account is quoted from as follows: “On the left of our batt’e 
line the 77th Division, which had got some of its troops across the 
Aire, was making slow progress in working around Grandpre’, which 
was impossible to take by direct assault. The 78th Division, alter - 
number of attempts, captured Grandpre’.” 

Another writer of high standing, Major Frederick E. Palmer, Chief 
Censor of the A. E. F., who by virtue of his position was able to have 
all data before him, likewise gives credit to the 78th Division in his 
account of the reduction of Grandpre’. 

But before the war closed the 78th was relieved, and the first 
night afterwards was spent at Germont. The following day the di¬ 
vision marched back past the scenes of the three weeks’ fighting, 
stopping one night in the Argonne camps near Verennes. Soon it 
was assembled around Clermont, where I had lanced with the 25th 
Engineers, to wait transportation to a training area further south. 
The division was to have its first rest since going into action. It had 
participated without respite in the two great American operations— 
St. Mihiel and the Argonne. 

The area to which the Lightning Division was soon sent was 
around Semur. This is a very old town of a few thousand people on a 
small river. Here division headquarters were established, while many 
of the organizations of the division were scattered around (dose in 
the smaller towns. 

My battalion was four miles from Semur, at Genay. Of the his¬ 
tory of Genay I could learn very little, but a few miles further 
another battalion of the 309th Infantry was located, and about that 
place I learned an interesting story. 

The name of the village was Mutier—St. Jean, meaning the Abbey 
of Saint John. Of course, as you know, an abbey is a monastery—a 
building where people live apart from the world and devote them- 


“LIGHTNING” HITS GRANDPRE’ 


173 


selves to religious work. The man who founded this abbey was a 
Christian whose name was John, and being a Christian was called Saint 
after his death. Well, the fellow was a poor man who, by his unusual 
medical ability had cured the ruler of that country of a dreadful 
malady. In return for what John had done for him the ruler promised 
him all the territory he could encompass in a day. But instead of 
walking, as the king supposed he would, John mounted his mule and 
rode. Thus he encircled a much larger scope than had been ex¬ 
pected. But the king kept his word and ceded the whole amount 
covered to the poor man. Then John built the abbey mentioned, and 
the place became quite a little city, and was finally called Mutier— 
St. Jean. 

That was a very beautiful country around there. There were hills 
covered with grass, valleys in between through which flowed beauti¬ 
ful streams. On the hillsides were vineyards, and on the hilltops 
forests had been planted. I perceived at once that the frees had 
been set out because they were in rows. Being evergreens they pre¬ 
sented a novel sight so high from the level of the valleys. 

I often took excursions over those hills, sometimes going alone, 
sometimes taking with me Joe, my “side kick,” or Arthur, my singer. 
We had good times wandering about there learning all we could about 
the people and country, and killing time until the next move. 

Once I wandered alone across the bridge, up the hillside to the 
north, crossed over to the other side end sat on the grass in the 
edge of the woods. Somehow I had begun to get a little lonesome 
at times, especially when no letter came from home. I had not re¬ 
ceived one in several weeks due to our recent move. So I sat there 
and mused, meditated or did a little thinking, as you wish to put it. 
Once I had been to the port thinking that I would be left there until 
the fight was all over, then speedily shipped home. Since that failed 
and I was back in “No Man’s Land” again I really wondered if I should 
ever get back to the “land of the free and the home of the brave.” 
And when? that was the main thing. So off up there alone—no not 
alone, for there was Another there—I dreamed of the good old days 
of yore, and of the happy days down in Texas around a little fireside 
someday to be mine. 

While in the Semur area I hiked a number of times with the com¬ 
panies over the hills on maneuvers. I went along, of course, to 
pick up the “wounded” and bury the “dead.” Once we rose before 
day, hiked ten miles and had a battle. 


174 


“OVER THERE” 


Several times going over we fell out to rest. But having taken 
up our position in the neck of the woods facing the enemy, we made 
ready for battle. First the one-pounders were set, then the machine- 
guns. The trench mortar was also dragged into position. The in¬ 
fantry being ahead in their trenches, all waited “zero hour.” It struck, 
and the fight began. 

First the trench mortars lifted high into the air their shells 
which fell into the enemy trenches running them out. The one- 
pounders opened up on their tanks, and our infantry advanced fifty 
yards. Just as our men fell into their new positions, the enemy 
started a counter attack. But having dragged their machine guns 
with them our boys were ab’e to hold the ground covered, for they 
mowed down the Germans in great slaughter! 

Now, amid the roar of shot, and shell, our brave fellows went over 
the top again, rushed to the enemy treches with set nayonets where 
they engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the opposers of liberty, 
.fnd won the day without the loss of a single man! 

Then the march back to camp. It was a wet march, too. We all 
got drenched. Was cold, too. When I got in I changed clothes from 
head to foot, fell into the hay and knew nothing else until the music 
of reveille came floating gently through my window. Then I scrambled 
out to take my “setting up” exercises. 

Now I’m going to tell you the story of Joan of Arc. 


“There is a destiny that makes us brothers: 
None goes his way alone; 

All that we send into the lives of others 
Comes back into our own.” 

—MARKHAM. 



STORIES, SICK CALLS, TAPS 



“Our birth is but sleep and a forgetting; 

The soul that rises with us, our life’s star 
Hath had elswhere its setting, 

And cometh from afar; 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 
From God who is our home.” 

—WORDSWORTH 








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THE CHURCH BUILT BY A MURDERER 






















































STORIES, SICK CALLS, TAPS 


177 


NOT far from Semur, up west of Chaumont on the Meuse River, 
in the village of Domremy there lived a maid whose heart was fired 
with patriotism for her country, France. The English and Burgun¬ 
dians were already in possession of Paris, and were now besieging 
Orleans. 

Then the frail figure of a girl was seen on the horizon of war. 
She was Joan of Arc who claimed she had seen a vision of angels. 
The Virgin had appeared to her, and had admonished her in tender 
accents to lead her countrymen in lifting the siege of Orleans. The 
voices becoming more plain to her, she, in 1428, went to the governor 
of the province for permission to enter Orleans, but he rejected her 
pretentions with scorn. Afterwards she sought the king himself and 
was granted a hearing at Chinon where Charles then held his alleged 
court. The prince, who was about to lose his kingdom, was ready to 
grasp at even a straw. 

The Maid having told Charles about her vision and her purpose 
to lift the siege of Orleans, and promising to escort him to the ancient 
city of Rheims where he should be crowned, gained an attentive 
hearing. Although most of the king’s courtiers considered Joan in¬ 
sane, or, worse than that, a dealer in the Black Art, come to work 
his Majesty’s ruin, the king heard her with anxious attention, and in 
the end she was granted a royal escort to accompany her to Orleans. 

Arriving at the besieged city, the maiden of Domremy soon in¬ 
spired the discouraged soldiers with fresh hopes of success. She 
had already clad herself in armor, and it was not long before she was 
looked to by the French as the Angel of War. They did her bidding 
with implicit faith. She commanded in the several assaults made 
against the camp of the enemy. Meanwhile her fame reached the 
English soldiers, and they, not less superstitious than the men of 
Orleans, dreaded the appearance of the Maid as the Trojans feard the 
apparition of Athene. So great a terror was presently spread among 
the besiegers that their efforts to take the city failed, and by the 
close of May, 1429, the enemy retreated. 

As soon as this, the first half of her mission w r as completed, Joan 
undertook the other part, which related to the king. In the mean¬ 
time the national spirit of France was thoroughly aroused. The peo¬ 
ple looked on the consecrated banner of the Maid of Orleans as 
the sure sign of victory and deliverance. She conducted Charles 
VII in triumph from Chinon to Rheims, where, in the great cathedral, 
he was crowned with enthusiasm. This done, Joan regarded her 


“OVER THERE” 


178 

mission at an end. Whatever might have been the source and origin 
of her power, she believed that her work was now accomplished, and 
was anxious to put off her soldier’s garb and return to her father's 
cot by the Meuse. 

But the French, having conquered under her banner, were unwill¬ 
ing to spare her services. Against her judgment she wai induced to 
remain in the army. Her power, however, was no longer displayed. 
In the beginning of winter she took part in an assault which was 
made on Paris, then held by the English and Burgundians. The re¬ 
sult was a serious repulse, in which the Maid of Orleans was wounded 
by an arrow. In the following year she succeeded in making her 
way into Compeigne, which was at that time infested by the English. 
In the spring she headed an attack on the besiegers, but the move¬ 
ment was a failure, and the Maid was taken prisoner and was con¬ 
fined in a fortress. 

Afterwards she was taken to Rouen and again put in prison. In 
the meantime, the University of Paris, then completely under the 
influence of the Burgundians, and hoping to gain favor with the 
English by destroying her who had been instrumental in overturning 
their domination in a large part of France, demanded that she should 
be fried on a charge of sorcery. To this the English authorities re¬ 
luctantly gave consent. A trial was set to investigate the alleged 
crimes of the girl of Domremy, and after several months duration, the 
papers of the court were made Up and sent to Paris. Here they were 
passed upon by the magnates of tlie university, and verdict rendered 
against the Maid, that, she should be burned at the stake. 

When the sentence of death was read to her she was given the 
alternative of recantation or death. Being in mortal terror, she de¬ 
nied the reality of her visions and was taken back to prison. But 
here the voices returned, and being caught in man’s clothing which 
had been left in the cell on purpose, she was declared by the bishop 
to have relapsed into her old-time familiarity with the devil, and was 
brought forth and burned in the market-place of Rouen. Not satisfied 
with the infamous deed which they had done on the innocent, they 
gathered up her ashes and scattered them in the River Seine. 

The death of Joan of Arc did not fail to bring forth punishment 
upon her accusers. It is said that all of her judges met violent and 
sudden deaths. However, one of them, the Bishop of Liseux, at¬ 
tempted to avert his fate and expiate his crime by founding a church. 


STORIES, SICK CALLS, TAPS 


179 


And from all the information I could gather this church was built at 
Semur, where our divisional headquarters were. 

The old cathedral is built after the Notre-Dame style, having two 
towers and three entrances at the front. On the east side, over the 
door, is a picture in relief on the rock telling the story of the church’s 
beginning. The bishop is represented as appearing before the pope 
to ask him what he must do to atone for his crime. The pope tells 
the sinner that if he will build a church in Semur the sin will be 
forgiven him. Then a sketch is shown where, after the church was 
completed, the repenting man is praying in it. In order that he may 
be seen doing penance his head and part of his body protrude above 
the roof. On his face there is the bitterest expression to show real 
contrition. This scene is carved on the wall outside over the east 
entrance. I saw it several times while we were in the Semur area. 

The inside of this building is similar to all the cathedrals I saw 
in France. Built of stone, the ceiling is high, arched over and sup 
ported by tall columns on the sides and through the center. At the 
front is the altar, and just in front of the altar, a platform above 
your head, to which a spiral stairway leads. This place is used by 
the priest when he has anything to say to the people. But he has 
little to say. Most of the worship is carried out in forms and cere¬ 
monies. It is a Catholic church, of course. 

Catholicism came into France from Rome. Christianity had gone 
from Palestine to Italy. And when the Romans under the leader¬ 
ship of Constantine won a great victory over their enemy, the soldier.? 
were baptized by the thousands. Thus, Rome put on Christanity in 
wholesale fashion. Not being personal converts to the new faith, 
their old pagan forms stayed with them. Therefore, wherever the 
Romans went they scattered this religion influenced by their former 
pagan deities and ceremonies. So throughout Catholic countries the 
churches and forms of worship are about the same, except the Greek 
Cathlocis did not adopt sprinkling for baptism, but retained the ori¬ 
ginal from which was immersion. 

In the Semur church, as in all Catholic churches in France, you 
will see the statue of Joan of Arc. She became a saint, and there¬ 
fore her image was placed in the cathedrals of the country. And not 
only so, but the visitor to these ancient churches sees multitudes of 
images. The Christ on the cross, His apostles carved in stone, and 
the image of Mary are the most prominent ones. It is claimed the 
people worship these, and pray to Mary, the mother of Jesus. 


180 


‘‘OVER THERE” 


Carrying out further the teachings of the crucifixion, you will see, 
on the right, at the entrance of all the towns a stone cross on which 
hangs the image of the crucified Christ. Thus to travel about in 
France one is reminded often of spiritual things. 

While at Semur it became my duty to perform the last rites given 
fallen soldiers, as I had done in the Argonne woods, but this time the 
military phase was carried out. Up at the front it was simple: two 
men to dig a grave, the chaplain to conduct the funeral. No\f, so 
far from the lines, full military ceremonies were executed. 

A number of my men were over at the hospital with the flu, or 
pneumonia. When a man died his chaplain was called upon to come 
over with truck or limber, pall bearers and firing squad, and bury 
the unfortunate soldier. Sometimes I buried three and four at a time, 
and many days there were twelve or fifteen laid beneath the scd in 
that muddy cemetery. 

The first man I buried there was a sergeant. Four miles over 
to headquarters, and we marched behind a limber pulled by a 
pair of mules. The fellows insisted that I ride, so I did part of the 
way. When we arrived at the hospital, I took my pall-bearers in, 
leaving the firing squad outside. The soldier had already been pre¬ 
pared for burial by the division undertaker who had placed the fallen 
man in a pine box draped with the Stars and Stripes. 
I led the way, the six men following with the body. Upon reaching 
the wagon the firing squad presented arms till the corpse was safely 
aboard, then 1 continued ahead, the pall-bearers on either side and 
the firing squad in the rear. Upon reaching the cemetery the squad 
presented arms while we lowered the casket to the grave. What I 
had to say came, then the men fired three rounds with their rifles, 
and the division bugler blew taps from the wall of the enclosure. And 
I never heard more appealing notes from a bugle. It was not one of 
cur bugles, but a larger one used by llie French, and the notes were 
soft and impressive. Leaving the casket for the grave-diggers to 
cover, we slowly wound our way out and back to camp. 

While stationed at Semur our division was reviewed by General 
Pershing. But the review took place at Les Lomes, the railhead 
twenty miles from Semur. At this village all the outfits of the 
Lightning' Division gathered to wait the coming of our G neral. We 
marched out into an old field, each company having a certain place 
where it would stand. Did I say stand? That’s what we did. We 
dare not sit for fear of getting our trousers muddy, and that would 


STORIES, SICK CALLS, TAPS 


181 


make a bad showing and a sorry impression upon the Commander 
of American Forces in France. Now, we waited some spell, too! 
Five hours is all. Tired, oh my! I wished I hadn’t gone, especially 
after noticing that not another chaplain of the whole outfit was there. 
That is, 1 never saw nor heard tell of another. I wondered if I was 
more loyal than the others, or more foolish. 

About 3 P. M. the general arrived in a run. Having left his car 
at the entrance to the field, he mounted his steed awaiting him, and 
paced along in front of the division with his staff. Upon reaching 
the farther end he dismounted, and, with his Chief of Staff, marched 
through the different outfits, the commanding officer of each joining 
him as he arrived. In a very short time, possibly an hour, the little 
general had covered the ground and seemingly without a bit of 
fatigue. He is some soldier, if he isn’t a speechmaker! I could see 
by the way "he carried himself without tiring that he was a soldier. 
I learned that day when he attempted to make a speech that he was 
not an orator. But every man to his calling. 

After a number of medals were pinned on soldiers who had dis¬ 
tinguished themselves on battlefron'S, we were dismissed to return 
home, I mean to camp. But let me say first, that I was not one or 
those who got a medal. The only medal I received was one pre¬ 
sented to all chaplains regardless of heroic deeds. 

It was late in the night when our trucks pulled back into H. Q. 
Pretty cord, too, and rained on us all the way back. In a few 
days I secured my orders for a leave to the City of Paris. 

Without seeming compliment to myself I felt like I deserved a 
week or two off, for it had been ten months since I was commissioned 
at Camp Taylor, and had not had a single leave. Seven months of 
active serve over there so far, and no time aff except when traveling 
from one outfit to another. I should have gone to Nice, where I could 
have spent two weeks, but was afraid my outfit might be sent else¬ 
where soon. So I took a few days off and went back v to Paris. 

I went by myself. When the men left an officer went with them. 
They seemed to trust us fellows with commissions, but I suspect it 
would have been a wise idea for somebody to have gone along with 
us. But laying all jokes aside it was a serious matter, off in those 
leave areas. One of my men had this misfortune: 

While on leave he fell into sin, either willingly or was overcome 
by temptation. Despite the fact that he had a wife and baby at 
home waiting his coming, depending on him to be faithful, he proved 


182 


“OVER THERE” 


untrue. Upon his return to the battalion his case was tried and he 
himself had To remain seven months longer than his comrades in 
France, on the road gang. The Lord only knows about his domestic 
affairs, whether he’s happy or his family is faring well. 

Having received my papers from division headquarters O. K.’d by 
Major-General McRay, I grabbed my handbag, left Joe in charge of 
my stuff and took off. Going down by Dijon to get a direct run to 
Paris, I passed the statue of Vercingetorix on top a hill a few miles 
out from the place where I had taken the wrong train on my way 
to join the 78th. 

Vercingetorix, you recall, was the leader of the Gauls against 
whom Caesar fought fifty years B. C. But the barbarous leader 
with his eighty thousand soldiers, aided by another tribe with over 
a hundred thousand, was not equal to the military genius of Caesar 
of the Romans. He was defeated, his tribes subdued to slavery, and 
old Vercingetorix carried to Rome by his conquorer to be exhibited 
in the trimphal march through the streets. 

Thus boarding the cars at Dijon (this time going in the right direc¬ 
tion) we passed through village after village, ov r hills and througl 
valleys, across rivers and near battlefields—this time the sun shining 
brightly—until we reached the Hub of France. 

This time I have several days in which to see one of the most won¬ 
derful cities in the world. 


“I care not what his temples or his creeds, 
One thing holds firm and fast— 

That into his fateful heap of days and deeds 
The soul of man is cast.” 


—MARKHAM. 



XXII. 

PARIS AFTER BOMBARDMENT 


“Earth lias not anything to show more fair; 
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by 
A sight so touching in its majesty: 

This city now doth, like a garment, wear 
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, 

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie 
Open unto the fiends, and to the sky; 

All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. 
Never did sun more beautifully steep 
In his first splendor, valley, rock or hill; 
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! 

The river glideth at his own sweet will: 

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; 
And all that mighty heart is lying still!” 

—MILTON 


183 






MAGNIFICENT PARISIAN SCENES 



















PARIS AFTER BOMBARDMENT 


185 


UPON arriving in “Gay Paree” i took the Red Cross motor bus 
along with other Americans who were on leave, and was carried to 
Hotel du Louvre where I had stopped on my way to the 78th. This 
hotel was in charge of the Red Cross and was operated for Ameri¬ 
can army officers. 

It being nearly night I did not go cut for fear I might get lost. 
But I made ready for supper, and such a meal I had not eaten in 
the A. E. F. That was a dandy place to eat. There were several 
courses served by French waitresses. The evening meal was the main 
one, so they charged fifteen francs for it. Breakfast was five francs, 
while lunch cost ten. Meals were served in grand style, too. There 
was nothing cheap about the Louvre. 

Having had a fine night’s sleep I rose to begn my first day of 
sight-seeing. Going down to the lobby whom should I meet bui. my 
friend Vaughn, the one from Missouri, whom I had not seen nor heard 
from since we parted at Chaumont directly after leaving for our 
outfits. He was the one who borrowed my fountain pen and failed 
to return it. For it he paid me in the hotel, then asked if I had heard 
about the misfortune of Chaplain Kelsey, who was in Camp Taylor 
with us. Assuring him that I had not heard the news, Vaughn told 
me the story: 

“Kelsey was in Paris one night when the city was raided. A 
bomb struck the hotel where he was stopping and he was 
shell-shocked. For many weeks the brave fellow screwed up his 
courage and tried to stay with it, but finally they sent him back to 
New York. Poor fellow! he will likely not get over it.” 

And he did not, for while in Paris I picked up the New York 
Herald and read this sad news: 

“New York City, April 14, 1919—This morning Chaplain Kelsey of 
Syracuse, N. Y., who was shell-shocked several mon hs ago in France, 
fell from a third story window of the hotel where he was being 
treated, and was picked up dead. The Chap 7 ain had been a sufferer 
ever since the fatal night of shelling, when he was shocked. For 
only a short time he was treated here by physicians, but seemed to 
be improving when the fatal end came.” 

My hotel faced the Grand Opera which was a few blocks away. 
This opera house is the finest building in Paris, costing 37 million 
francs. Begun in 1861, it was finished from the designs of Charles 
Gamier, the architect who also built the Casion and Theatre oi> 
Monte Carlo. There is a gilded bust of him on the left side. There 


186 



“OVER THERE” 

are some fine groups of statuary round the building, but the only 
one which the authorities thought necessary to protect from possible 
German bombs (which could not be seen at that time) is “The 
Dance” by Carpeaux. 

If the Outside of the Opera is superb, the inside—the grand stair¬ 
case—is a masterpiece of elegant luxury. The steps are of white 
marble and the handrail of Algerian onyx. The ceiling frescoes re¬ 
present the gods of Olympus, while in the foyer there are fine paint¬ 
ings and mosaics. 

The fine building is, of course, more than a simple opera house, 
for it is the headquarters of the National Academy of Music and 
Dance, under the direct orders of the Under Secretary of Fine Arts. 

From the opera building I went again to the famous Notre-Dame, 
mentioned in a pervious chapter, and built on the boat-shaped island 
in the Seine. As one approaches from the outside he may see various 
kinds of relief work over the three arches. Passing: in through the 
heavy doors you look down a long hall toward the altar. As you 
pass around you see the rose window dedicated to the glory of the 
Virgin, who sits with crown and sceptre bearing the child on her 
left arm. 

On the wall between the choir and ambulatory is a high relief in 
stone executed early in the 14th century, and represents scenes in 
the life of Christ. The series was continued a little later, and these 
are better modeled but not so quaint as those on the south side of the 
choir. 

Relief carving of the apostles and other sain's may be seen about 
over the building, as well as little “stalls” dedicated to the memory 
of certain dead saints. There is a story about one of these as follows: 

It is claime'd that the remains of some renowned saint were placed 
in the cathedral, and I saw what was said to be the tomb. So 
implicitiy do the people believe in that saint that, during the bom¬ 
bardment of Paris by the Germans, they flocked to that tomb and 
worshipped the saint, believeing that if they did so the city would 
be spared. Then when they were spared from the Germans they 
actually believed ft was because they prayed to that saint which had 
been dead two centuries or more. Such foolishness! 

To complete the first day’s tour I went by the Madeleine and the 
church whose side was ripped by a shell during bombardment. The 
Madeleine, beautiful outside, but rather gloomy within, the most 
fashionable of Paris churches, where society weddings take place, is 


PARIS AFTER BOMBARDMENT 


187 


of particular interest to soldiers. In 1806 Napoleon decreed that the 
church should become a Temple of Glory to commemorate ihe deeds 
of the “Grand Army.” After 1815, however, and the famous battle 
which changed history, the temple returned to its former purposes of 
a church. 

In the two squares on either side of the church flower markets 
are held every Tuesday and Friday. The flower stalls are a beau¬ 
tiful sight in spring and early summer especially, even in late years, 
when the market is nothing like so extensive as it used to be. 

And this reminds me that if you look at the flower stalls which 
are numerous all over the city, you will most days find inscribed 
over them the name of some saint—Mary, or Catherine or Jean. 
These names mean that it is the eve of the Saint’s Day and it is 
the custom to carry flowers to those who bear the name. At 
Christmas time you will find the Madeleine market filled wkh 
Christmas trees and mistletoe, for of late years the French have 
thoroughly adopted Christmas customs. 

The church with a hole in its side, mentioned above is the one 
struck by a German shell on a Good Friday, and eighty people out of 
the one hundred and twenty who were worshipping there were killed. 
I saw the hole in the wall, but did not have a chance to go inside. 

The second day I started out with the same party as before, and 
our first stop was at the Place de la Bastille. In the middle where 
the streets cross is the Column of July, erected to commemorate the 
downfall of the Bastille, the famous prison fortress, which stood on 
the western side of the Place. Charles V built the Bastille to defend 
His palace of St. Paul; its later history as a State prison and weapon 
of oppression, until its downfall in 1789, is as well known as any 
historical cpisocTe. The eastern limits of the Bastille are marked in 
white stones in the roadway near the opening of the Rue St. Antoine, 
but none of the pile itself is left. The six hundred odd patriots who 
are buried under the Column of July are not, however, those who fell 
in the great Revolution, but the victims of another rising with much 
bloodshed in another memorable July—when Paris again rose in revo¬ 
lution against Charles X. The monument was erected a few years 
later to commemorate these two victories, and it is to the credit of 
the French people that if they have plenty of monuments celebrating 
military victories, they have also not a few recording the triumphs 
of the people over tyranny. 

From the Bastille we went to the Church of the Invalides which 


188 


“OVER THERE” 



is divided into two parts—the Church of St. Louis and the chapel 
under the Dome. In the latter is Napoleon’s Tomb, constructed by 
Visconti immediately under the cupola. It is an open circular crypt, 
36 feet in diameter and 20 feet deep, with a granite tomb hewn out 
of a single block weighing about 68 tons, which was brought from 
Finland for the purpose at a cost of 140,000 francs. Many writers 
of no J e have described how the remains of the great Emperor were 
brought to France in 1848 by the Prince de Joinville, in obedience to 
his own wish experssed in his will; how they were carried in state 
through Paris and deposited in one of the chapels for twenty years 
until the tomb was constructed. The tombs of Jerome and Joseph 
Bonaparte are in ihe chapel as well as monuments of other great 
generals. When I visited Napoleon’s Tomb it was encased with 
heavy timbers to prevent destruction in case a shell struck the church. 

In'this building! saw something I never heard of anywhere <ise in 
the world. The glass of the windows is of such construction and ar- 
rangement'that'the biulding is kept lighted well in the daytime—even 
on a cloucfy day—as it was the day I visited the place. There was a 
beautlfur soft amber light falling on the statuary in the chapel, which 
causes a wonderful sight. 

Referring io the Saint Chapel again (mentioned previously) we 
next went there. It is quaint in that it consists of two parts—an 
upper part for the Royal family and court, and a lower one for the 
common people. There is endless details here to keep the visitor 
entranced. Note the decorations which repeat the Crown of Thorns 
and the cross with other religious emblems, mingling with the Royal 
lilies and the castles of Castille, in honor of Blanche of Castille, 
Louis’ mother. The tabernacle now empty, once contained the 
sacred relics, as well as the skull of Louis. 

Before going in we went to the Pantheon of ihe World War. It 
was built in a circle, and you pass through the entrance to the 
elevated platform in the center. On canvas, I suppose it is canvas, is 
a panorama of the war, showing the generals and fighting machinery 
of the different countries. The scene representing the United States 
is very natural. President Wilson and General Pershing, as well as 
other noted characters of the war, can be distinguished readily. So 
natural is this painting that as we entered one of the party exclaimed, 
“Look at the trench mortar there!” 

One more day to spend on my vacation, so I- rose early and went 
alone. Having seen the Eiffel Tower at a distance only I went down 


PARIS AFTER BOMBARDMENT 


189 


the river to where it stood. Upon arriving I was surprised to see 
a tower so large and tall that i s base covers nearly four acres of 
ground. Built of steel it grows rapidly smaller, then tapers up more 
perpendicularly to the height of over nine hundred feet. During 
peace times an elevator runs to the top, but when I was there no 

one was allowed to go up. It is said that this massive piece of work 

was constructed for some exposition to show what could be done 
with steel. During the war the tower w T as used as a wireless station. 

A little further on stands the mammoth Ferris Wheel, reaching 
five hundred feet itself. The cabs in which people ride are large 
enough to hold a dozen individuals, it seemed to me. Neither was the 
wheel running, or perhaps I might have been foo'ish enough to got 
on the thing. 

Now, I turned back and took in the shops and markets. That 
part of French life is very interesting indeed. On many of the 
streets I had already walked, but the main one seemed to be Rue 
de Italiens. This is a broad street with a row of trees on ei her 

side near the curbs. On this street I bought some souvenirs. But 

before I relate my exp:rience with the little clerk and the banker, I 
want to tell you about the PLACE DE LA CONCORDE. 

This is perhaps the most beautiful square in Europe, and certainly 
one of the most historical. The Place was once called Place Louis 
XV, and if you look on the wall of the corner nearest the Champs 
Elysees, turning into the little Rue Boissy d’Anglas, you will still see 
the old inscription. In 1770 a terrible event occured in the Place, 
which was doubtless at the time referred to as a presage of evil 
augury. At a "firework display given to celebrate the marriage o i 
the Dauphin (afterwards Louis XVI) with Marie-Antoinette, a panic 
and stampede took place, and some 1200 people were killed and 2000 
injured. Awful presage indeed! It marked the beginning of he ill 
feeling against the “Austrian” Queen. A litt’e over twenty years later 
the guillitine was erected on the square, now named Place de la 
Revolution, and not only the king and beautiful Marie-Antoine te lost 
their heads there, but two thousand people perished there in less 
than two years. Oh, Liberty! Liberty! what crimes are committed 
in thy name! 

It was on Rue de Italiens I purchased some things to take back 
to “Mabel.” The clerk was a French girl who could speak Erg'ish 
a little. That was a great help to one who knew no French. More 
especially was it needful that we understand each other since I was 


190 


“OVER THERE” 


not so accustomed to buying the kind of apparel I did. But what¬ 
ever it all was, the little girl soaked me nearly 750 francs, or about 
$50.00. So when I presented my pay checks amounting to 1,000 
francs, she did not have the difference. I said, what am I to do? 

The clerk answered by saying, “Go to the bank and get is cashed.” 
But I didn’t know where the bank was. 

So she replied, “I will go along and show you.” 

Well, now you should have seen us two walking the streets of 
“Gay Paree” on our way to the bank. The first one we went into 
would not cash any checks at all. How funny! So we had to hunt 
up another. It was a large bank, and many people were ahead of me. 
l waited in line (army style), and when it came my time I shoved 
my checks at the clerk and said Gimme the cash please, sir. But 
he looked at my checks, then looked at me like he didn’t know me. 
Why, I was one of Uncle Sam’s boys, couldn’t he cash checks on the 
U. S. He said something which I couldn’t understand. I said, No 
“savey” French for me. An Englishman standing nearby broke in, 
“He wants you to be identified.” 

“Well,” said I to him. “I don’t know anybody here. Can’t you 
take a check on the United States treasury?” 

Then the cashier asked me for my identifica ion papers. Great 
Scott! I had left them with the sergeant-major at battalion head¬ 
quarters. Then he asked me for my “dog tag3.” Those I had taken 
off to wash the dirty strings and had left hanging on the wall of 
my room—noT in my hotel in Paris—but back at my outfit. Was I 
going to have to return those dry-goods? Then, as a last resort 1 
brought forth my leave orders, on which I showed the clerk my name, 
and he reluc antly let me have the money! 

Then I went back to the store with mad.amoiselle, paid her the bill, 
look what few francs were left and with my goods under each arm— 
like Benjamin Franklin upon first landing in Philadelphia—I hurried 
back to the Louvre. 



’ - ' • - * **• . ; ' . 

XXIII. 

ZERO HOUR AND “MABEL” 


“In peace, love tunes the shepherd’s reed; 

In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed; 

In halls, in gay attire is seen; 

In ham’.ets, dances on the green. 

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, 
And men below, and saints above; 

For love is heaven and heaven is love.” 

—SCOTT 








MEN OF 2ND BN., 309TH INFANTRY 




















ZERO HOUR AND “MABEL” 193 

MY leave was up and I hadn’t seen anything scarcely. In fact, 
you cannot touch much of a large city like Paris in so short a time. 
With its population of nearly three millions, so many places of his¬ 
torical interest, and the various phases of French life to study, it 
would require a whole month to see all of Paris. Had I the time I 
should like to dwell especially on the religious and moral conditions 
of the city, but since my stay there was up I had to get out. 

Arriving back at my battalion I found everything about as I had 
left it, so settled down and went to work again. But I hadn’t set¬ 
tled long before there were rumors abroad that the 78th was going to 
move. To what place, that was the question. 

Having had some good meetings with the several companies, in¬ 
cluding a Mother’s Day service on April 20—just one year after my 
mother’s death—that said rumor was reported to be a reality. The 
day actually came! We were up at 3 A. M., and were all set at day¬ 
break. Zero hour having arrived at just ten minutes afier six, we 
went over the top .... of the hill east of Genay, to see the place 
never more. This was on April 30, 1919, nearly six long, weary 
months after November 11. The war was over and we were on our 
way back HOME. 

After the Armistice the soldiers lived on rumors. So during 
those months of lonesome wailing the great questions day by day 
were: Have you heard the latest rumor? Where do we go from 
here? What I want to know is, When do we go home? 

The day of our departure for the port—that notable day—snow was 
falling lightly, but this soon merged into a cold rain which fell on us 
most of the way to the Bordeaux area, where we were kept a month 
before sailing. That was horrible! We wanted to get back quick. 

Before leaving Semur I had received orders assigning me to the 
headquarters company of the division. Thus my baggage was put 
with H. Q. stuff, and when I arrived they had me a stopping place 
already picked out. 

So for a couple of weeks we stayed around there, and while thus 
idle I took excursions out into the neighboring villages, and down 
to the Gironde River nearby. This river heads up in the Alps some¬ 
where, fee'ds from the melting snow, and consequently runs deep in 
the spring and summer. While there I took a few boat rides on the 
stream, and watched the fishermen ply their trade. 

One of the most' interesting sights I ever saw was a new chateau 
and grounds, just being finished. It was reported that the rich 


194 


“OVER THERE” 


Frenchman was spending a half million dollars on his home. The 
enclosure must have contained ten acres, and was being set with 
trees, shrubs and flowers of various kinds. There were meandering 
walks, artificial lakes and hills, little parks, and everything beau¬ 
tiful behind those walls. The house was magnificent, of the general 
style of chateaus or castles, but was not completed. The most in¬ 
teresting feature of the place, however, was a work of art entitled, 
“The Mystery of Life.” 

That was a statue portraying several different characters, and 
said to cost several thousand dollars itself. There was the child ask¬ 
ing questions, a significent thing about child nature. He wanted to 
know how the chicken hatched out of the egg, as he was holding 
an egg shell up before the grandmother. There was the mother 
holding her babe, the father dressed in the clothes of an honest 
toiler. Also, the rich fool was portrayed worshipping his gold. The 
tempter, represented by the serpent, was not left out—since we find 
him in real life. For an hour, I suppose, I stood and admired the 
statuary, wondering why people gave their lives to the making of 
such things, but they do. 

As I passed back to my place I was attracted by school children 
playing. They seemed to be having a great time, as do children in 
America, at play. Some of them were playing “hop scotch,” others 
were running and all were yelling. As most children do over here 
they likely enjoyed playing better than studying. 

The village where we first landed was Podensac, and for a few 
days my room was over the brewery. Very handy, you see! While 
there I went all through the still from the place where they begin 
to make the stuff to the room where it was being bottled and boxed. 
That didn’t look like prohibition. Such a thing is unthinkable in 
France. But for the United States—well, we’re ahead of France! 

The day arrived when we started to the port. Two days it took 
us to hike it. Some tired bunch when we got into Camp Genecart 
No. 1. A Hay there then transferred to Genecart No. 2. In a few 
days my outfit was gone, leaving a number of the officers, including 
Chaplain Montgomery, Mr. Briggs and myself, to get back the best 
way we could. Bad arrangement, that. I can best express my feel¬ 
ings by quoting from my diary: “If I ever see the fellow who is 

responsible for this .oh, well, he’ll know my feelings about 

this matter!” 

On Thursday, May 22, we got a rumor that we would sail Saturday, 



ZERO HOUR AND “MABEL” 


195 

and a little note written in my book at that time says, “I hope to 
goodness we do. I am sick and tired of this place. I’m homesick! 
And sure enough, thank heaven, on Saturday we boarded the French 
S. S. Chicago and sailed out of harbor. 

We had an interesting bunch aboard. Besides a few hundred of 
our soldiers, there were some French soldiers, many civilians of sev¬ 
eral different nationalities, including a family of dwarfs and a “mon¬ 
key” man. 

There were two women and two men of the dwarfs, and one of 
the women was called princess, and one of the men prince. Must 
have been of the royalty. But they were all smart enough to be 
princes and princesses. One of the women could speak a number of 
different languages. Of course they belonged to a show troupe, and 
were under the charge of “grown ups.” 

The “monkey man” was Mr. Garner of the Smithsonian Institute 
in Washington, D. C., and had been in Africa—not a missionary to 
the people, but to the monkeys! He could tell more about animals 
than anybody I ever heard talk. He knew their habits better than 
I know my own. He even knew their language! Yes, monkeys have 
a language. All animals do. 

On our return trip all lights were on at night, and no abandon 
ships alarms, thank goodness! But the old boat just wouldn’t travel 
fast enough. The reason, we were heading a pretty stiff gale. One 
or two days we made no speed at all. Just traveled, that’s all. 

The eats were of the finest kind, but little good did that do me. 
They wouldn’t stay down! I’ll say I was sick. There was just one 
thing that kept me from jumping overboard; we were headed for 
home! Everytime I tried to walk, the deck would fly up and hit me 
in the face! Only place I could get any degree of ease was on my 
bunk flat of my back. Seven days out of the twelve on the return 
trip, I was in that fix. Just one vision sustained me. That was the 
anticipation of “someone” meeting me on the other side! She was the 
subject of my dreams by’ night, the object of my thoughts by day. 
Why not? 

Then, the long-looked-for day rolled round and the lights along 
the shore could be seen as darkness came on. We were all elated. 
We were simply hilarious! Every light in New York was surely 
doing its best that night. The tall buildings seemed to be on fire. 
The boys were coming home to a land far more beautiful than France 


196 


“OVER THERE” 


ever cared to be!—“The land of the Free and the home of the Brave!” 

After laying in the harbor all night we steamed into the docks 
and were transferred to Hoboken by tugboat. Hoboken was the same 
old place. Soon we walked off the gangplank and shortly scattered. 
Stopped in the City that night and took train next day to Camp Mer¬ 
ritt, where 1 hoped I’d be discharged right away. Saw some of the 
25th fellows, who had just arrived, then reported for further orders. 

But after staying a day in Merritt found that I had to report over 
at Camp Dix, New Jersey, for my discharge. And there, on Sunday, 
l worked harder than ever before getting out of the army. Got my 
papers though, my bonus, too—not the one discussed by congress so 
long and then failed to pass—a fifty dollar bonus which we all got 
if honorably discharged. Then I got out on first train . 

I was like the fellow who said that if the Statue of Liberty got a 
good look at him when he landed back in the port, the “old girl” 
would have to turn round, for he would not look back himself. I was 
not afraid of turning to a “pillar of salt” should I look back, but there 
was no time to lose, no time for foolishness. 

First night after leaving camp I had to lay over in Philadelphia, 
that city of “brotherly love” founded by William Penn; the old burg 
where Benjamin Franklin got his start working in a printing shop. 
That was Sunday night, so I went out to find a church. 

I wanted to go to Dr. Russell H. Conwell’s church but it seemed 
to be some distance away, so went a few blocks to one which proved 
to be a Methodist church. The people were sociable enough, and after 
service some few stayed and talked to me a while, asking me all sorts 
of questions about Texas. One man noticing my build and height 
asked, “Are all men from Texas tall like you? I never see a Texas 
man who isn’t.” 

Resuming my journey next day I traveled and then traveled some 
more, and finally got stuck in Little Rock, Arkansas, several hours. 
That was murder for a fellow to get so close and then be held up. 
But oh, I was happy just the same, for I was on my way. Wasn’t 
so Lappy, though, as the fellow I recently heard about. 

This fellow was a married man and had died. His wife believed 
you could communicate with the dead, so she called up her deceased 
companion: 

“Husband, is that you talking?” 

“Yes, is that you wife?” 

'’Yes; are you happy there, my dear?” 


ZERO HOUR AND “MABEL” 


197 


“Oh, yes, quite happy.” 

^re you happier than you were down here with me?” 

“You bet I am,” was the ready answer. 

“Then you must be in heaven,” returned the lonesome woman. 

Immediately came back the reply, “No, I’m not in heaven!” 

Neither was I in heaven, but was going to be right away. 

Before leaving Little Rock I wired Fort Worth, the place where 
my ticket said I was going to get off. Then stepped aboard and began 
the last lap of my long journey which had lasted for just twelve 
months. 

During that year I had first taken three weeks in the Chaplains 
School at Camp Taylor, went back to Texas for four weeks after 
being commissioned, spent two weeks all told in New York City, was 
on the water both trips thirty days, was in and passed through eight 
army camps and six ports, and traveled not less than twenty-five 
thousand miles—the distance around the earth. But nearly every 
soldier did the same thing, some remaining in the army the whole 
two years or more, and seeing quite a few different countries besides 
France and the United States. And we all stayed in the service just 
as long, or just as short a time, as our Uncle Sam said so, for kick 
as we did because he wouldn’t bring us right back after November 11, 
he seemed not to pay us any mind. Of course there were several 
thousand who never came back! 

Hundreds of men, however, who did return are not the same men 
they were upon leaving home, even though nearly every fellow not 
gassed or wounded or otherwise disabled, appeared to be the very 
picture of health. Some came home with a limb gone, some with 
tuberculosis, or other diseases, to show for the sacrifice they made 
in the world struggle. Many fellows would be better off dead, were 
they prepared to die, than live a life of torment here on earth the 
rest of their days. Some of these suffer because they could not have 
helped it, some who could. Of these last mentiontd, let it suffice to 
say, they are reaping what they sowed. 

In one detention camp overseas there were seven hundred of 
these unfortunate, diseased men, most of them negroes, however, who 
were unfit for good soldiers because of sins they had committed. But 
at that the United States on the whole had a better, cleaner soldiery 
than any other country. It is said that England alone at one time 
had'as high as fifty thousand soldiers in a colony disabled by diseases 
so prevalent, not only during the war, but even in peace times. 


198 


“OVER THERE” 


But is was far more honorable in a soldier to return having lost 
all his limbs, or having contracted T.B., or as a nervous wreck, rather 
than be disgraced for life with a disease, which he was able to evade. 
Some things are worse than death, you know. 

One unfortunate fellow I heard about, left his wife and joined the 
colors to fight for liberty. He was wounded many times on the firing 
line. But he did not run or desert. Both his arms he lost in the fight. 
As he neared his home-town a sympathizing friend said: “I feel sorry 
for you, old fellow. What will the little wife think? How can you 
ever embrace your dear companion again?” 

Then he, smiling, said: “That’s true; but one thing certain, she 
can embrace me!” 

Yet, however sad the picture in the home of many a returning 
soldier, and in the home of many who did not return, it was by far 
a better scene than that portrayed at the close of the Civil War by 
Henry W". Grady, described in the following chapter. 


“For all your days prepare, 

And meet them ever alike: 

When you are the anvil, bear-v- 

When you are the hammer, strike.” 

EDWIN MARKHAM. 




XXIV. 

FINIS: UNIVERSAL PEACE, WHEN? 


“Ah! when shall all men’s good 
Be each man’s rule, and universal Peace 
Lie like a shaft of light across the land, 
And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, 
Thro’ all the circle of the golden year?” 

—TENNYSON 


199 






A “STEAM LAUNDRY”—SEMUR BRIDGE 
























FINIS: UNIVERSAL PEACE, WHEN? 201 

THE South had lost her struggle against the North. Her fields 
had been ravaged, her property destroyed, her homes demolished. 
Picture her weary soldiers—those who were spared—returning in rags 
to a country like this. No home, no money, no credit and possibly no 
family to receive them in many instances. But those wounded and 
tattered men shouldered their responsibility, and a New South was 
the outcome. 

And now, after more than half a century of rebuilding and reunit¬ 
ing the sections which fought each other in the Civil War, our soldiers 
—our American soldiers— were coming home to the North, to the 
South,"ho the East and to the West! Back to the United States! And 
they came not as those veterans of sixty years ago, tattered, hungry, 
and discouraged; but well-clothed, well-fed to a land of plenty with 
victory still fresh in memory. They came from far over seas vhere 
they had gained honor to themselves and their country in the greatest 
fight ever known for liberty; where they had driven back the Hun to 
his own borders and liberated the oppressed French; where they had 
fought to make the world safe for democracy, and to spread the prin¬ 
ciples of a government “of the people, for the people, and by the peo¬ 
ple.” They came from the fields of Flanders, the Argonne Woods, and 
the Marne where more than one soldier declared as did king Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar when the three Hebrews had been thrown into th fiery fur¬ 
nace, that there was another in there like unto the Son of God. 

That reminds me of a story as told by Harry Lawter, a welfare 
worker, returned for a short stay at home during the war. It was 
about the time one of the Liberty Loan drives was on and the service 
flags were in the windows of the homes. His little boy accompanied 
him on a walk one evening when the stars were brightly shining. As 
they passed along the streets the little fellow asked, “Daddy, what 
does that star in the window there moan?” 

“That means, my boy, that those people have a son in the war,” 
replied the father proudly. 

Then as they passed on the boy exclaimed often, “Those people 
have a son in the war,” or, “they have two sons in the war,” according 
to the number of stars on the service flags. 

Suddenly, with a scream of delight, the little fellow at seeing a 
big bright star in the sky, cried, “Look, daddy, God has a Son in the 
war!” 

Yes, those brave fellows were returning continually to a country 
which has never known defeat, and may she never know defeat. She 


202 


“OVER THERE" 




has never known defeat because she has always been on the side of 
right—on the side which God is on. And I was one of the lads, not 
one who returned as a hero—just a servant of the Great Captain— 
and I was on my way to Texas. My train was pulling into the sta¬ 
tion at Fort Worth. 

A few moments after stopping I dropped from the rear of a long 
string of cars and proceeded toward the gate. At a glimpse I saw 
two ladies climbing upon the high iron fence separating the station 
from the tracks. It was a common occurrence, they were looking 
for a brother, or possibly a sweetheart, so I thought nothing about 
it. Presently they came down the fence as quickly as Zacchaeus came 
down out of fbe tree. Seemingly they were having some trouble get¬ 
ting the gateman to open up. Then the two took hold the gate, 
jerkecl it open wide enough to pass and came down the long walk 
like a pair of athletes running a race, knocking people right and left. 
In the crowd they liad become lost to my view. Supposing they had 
found the fellows they were looking for, I moved on without further 
concern. But suddenly, like the unexpected fall of an avalanche 
those two ladies swooped down on me. I was bombarded, shell¬ 
shocked and gassed in a moment’s time. I gasped for breath. I 
yelled for Joe to come and help me. But like a flash it was revealed 
to me'that the clash was not an attack of the Germans; those two 
ladies I had seen on the fence had bombarded me; they were my sister, 
and .... well .... my only wife! 

The day of my arrival was June 10th, our fifth wedding anniver¬ 
sary, consequently I knew the dining table would be loaded down with 
good things to eat. And sure enough it was. There were beans— 
not pork and beans—baked chicken, creamed potatoes, pumpkin pie, 
strawberry shortcake, good old buttermilk and corn bread. There 
was no corned beef, no pork and beans, no rice, no jam in the can! 
I’m off that stuff forever! 

This was all found on Seminary Hill where the good wife and my 
sister had attended school during my absence, and where I entered 
the following fall. Thus my wife and I took up our calling together 
again, as we had done four years previous to my entering the ser¬ 
vice. But this time we did not teach as we had done the }ears 
before in connection with my pastorial work. Soon after school 
opened I was called to a church in Dallas County, then to another 
in Tarrant, and finally to a third in Denton County. Through the 
rain and slush I went to those churches, never missing an appoint- 


FINIS: UNIVERSAL PEACE, WHEN? 


203 


raent, for I had learned overseas not to mind the rain. 

Next year I accepted a full-time church in Fort Worth and there 
I bumped against the hardest proposition I had met thus far in my 
calling. But with the help of a companion who loves Him and His 
work, stuck it out two years and have reasons to believe that the Lord 
blessed our labors there. 

Now we’re down here on the coast near Galveston, at Texas City, 
trying to carry on. Though for four years I suffered ill-health con¬ 
tracted yonder at the front, I have just had a surgical operation ror 
chronic appendicitis, and my health is much improved.With the cause 
of my trouble removed my courage and faith have mounted upward 
and I feel more like doing all I can in the Battle for Universal Peace. 

What? You think we’ll never have Universal Peace? The pros¬ 
pects do look pretty gloomy just now, don’t they? One war hardly 
closes before another begins. In fact some of the nations never did 
quit! Then such a crime wave, mob riots, thousands going down 
under temptation; there’s no peace now, but ‘tis sure to come— 
someday. 

The Word says, There shall be wars and rumors of wars; pesti¬ 
lence, famine, earthquakes, storms; all these shall come to pass but 
the end is not yet. We’ve had all these, and are still having them, 
and will continue to Rave them so long as the devil has control of 
nations and people. But there shall come a time when he shall be 
chaned—for a thousand years he shall be cast into the pit—and dur¬ 
ing that period we shall have peace. Then, as Mich says, “They shall 
beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning- 
hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall 
they learn war any more.” 

But ah, methinks this reign of peace shall not set in till all 
nations shall have heard and heeded the gospel message. This mes¬ 
sage is the very essence of peace on earth ,good will toward men. 
But will all men heed it? Christ said, “This gospel of the kingdom 
shall be preached in the whole world for a testimony unto all nations; 
then shall the end come.” All nations shall have a chance to be 
saved, but they will not. As Christ said, “Jerusalem, oh Jerusalem, 
how oft would I have gathered thee as a hen gathers her chicks 
under her wings, but ye would not.” Thus, many shall be called 
but few chosen. 

But the good news of peace on earth, good will toward men, 
is the leaven sent forth into a world of woe to bring about peace. 


204 


“OVER THERE” 


This message was first heralded yonder to the shepherds tending 
tneir Hocks in the nightime on the hills of Judea. “And the angel 
of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord shone round 
about them: and they were sore afraid. Then the angel said unto 
them, Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy 
which shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day 
in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” 

From that glad day to this, that wonderful story of peace and 
good will has been echoing on the morning breeze, ’mis message of 
love and truth; this story of the Christ who died on Calvary to bring 
peace to the troubled hearts of men, and free them from the bondage 
of sin. When this blessed story is told as a witness to all the na¬ 
tions, then shall the Savior come. 

And when He comes people shall be eating and drinking, marry¬ 
ing and sinning, just as in the days of Noah. Unexpectedly, as the 
flood came, so shall be the coming of the Son of Man. No one knows 
the time, but just as sure as he came the first time he’s coming 
again. 

Until then the principles of Christianity must be proclaimed from 
pulpit, yes, but they must be lived in the lives of His followers. I 
don’t know that we could do on less preaching, but we certainly do 
need more and greater living examples of the Christian Religion all 
over the world. And there are millions of such examples now where 
a centrury ago there were only thousands. 

If America is saved from the rocks she must look well to the 
foundation—the Christian home. We need more homes all over the 
country like the one Henry W. Grady pictures in THE FARMER’S 
HOME: 

“A few Sundays ago I stood on the hill in Washington. My hear; 
thrilled as I looked on the towering marble of my country’s. Capitol, 
and a mist gathered in my eyes as, standing there, I thought of its 
tremendous significance and the powers there assembled, and the 
responsibilities there centered—its presidents, its congress, its courts, 
its gathered treasure, its army, its navy, and its sixty millions of 
peoples (more than a hundred million now). It seemed to me the 
best and the mightiest sight that the sun could find in its wheeling 
course—this majestic home of a Republic that has taught the world 
its best lessons of liberty—and I felt that if wisdom, and justice, and 
honor abided therein, the world would stand endebted to this temple 


FINIS: UNIVERSAL PEACE, WHEN? 


205 


on which my eyes rested, and in which the ark of my covenant was 
lodged for its final uplifting and regeneration. 

“A few days later I visited a country home. A modest, quiet 
house sheltered by great trees and set in a circle of field and meadow, 
gracious with the promise of harvest—barns and cribs were filled 
and the old smoke-house ordorous with treasure—the fragrance of 
pink and hollyhock mingling with the aroma of garden and orchard, 
and resonant with the hum of bees and poultry’s busy clucking. 

“Inside the house there were thrift, comfort, and that cleanliness 
that' is next to godliness—the restful beds, the open fire-place, the 
books and papers, and the old clock that had held its steadfast pace 
amid the frolic of weddings, that had welcomed in steady measure 
the newborn babes of the family, and kept company with the watchers 
of the sick bed, and had ticked the solemn requiem of the dead; and 
the well-worn Bible that, thumbed by fingers long since stilled, and 
blurred with tears from eyes long since closed, held the simple an¬ 
nals of the family, and the heart and conscience of the home. 

“Outside stood the master, strong and wholesome and upright; 
wearing no man’s collar; with no mortgage on his roof, and no lien 
on his ripening harvest; pitching his crops in his own wisdom, and 
selling them in his own time in his chosen market; master of his 
lands and master of himself. Nearby stood the aged father, happy in 
the heart and home of his son. As they started to the house, the 
old man’s hand rested on the young man’s shoulder, touching it with 
the knighthood of fhe fourth commandment, and laying there the un¬ 
speakable blessing of an honored and greatful father. As they drew 
near the door the old mother appeared ;the sunset falling on her 
face, softening its wrinkles and its tenderness lighting up her patient 
eyes, and fhe rich music on her heart trembling on her lips, as in 
simple phrase she welcomed her husband and son to their home. 

“Beyond was the good wife, true of touch and tender, happy amid 
her household cares, clean of heart and conscience, the helpmate and 
the buckler of her husband. And the children strong and sturdy, 
trooping 'down the lane with the lowing heard, or weary of simple 
sport, seeking, as truant birds do, the quiet of the old home nest. 
And I saw the night descend on that home, falling gently as from 
the wings of the unseen dove. And the stars swarmed in the bending 
skies—the trees thrilled with the cricket’s cry—the restless bird called 
from the nighboring wood—and the father, a simple man of God, 
gathering the family about him, read from the Bible the old, old story 


206 


“OVER THERE” 


of faith and Ibve, and then went down in prayer, the baby hidden 
beneath the folds of its mother’s dress, and closed the record of that 
simple day by calling down the benediction of God on the family and 
on the home! 

“And as I gazed the memory of the great Capitol faded from my 
mind. Forgotten, is treasure and its splendor. And I said, ‘Surely 
here—here in the homes of the people is lodged the ark and coven¬ 
ant of my country. Here is its majesty and its strength. Here the 
beginning of its power and the end of its resposibility.’ The homes 
of the people; let us keep them pure and independent, and all will 
be well with the republic. Here is the lesson our country may learn 
—here is work the humblest and weakest hands may do. Let us in 
simple thrift and economy make our homes independent. Let us in 
frugal industry make them self-sustaining. In sacrifice and self- 
denial let us keep them free from debt and obligation. Let us make 
them homes of refinement in which we shall teach our daughters that 
modesty and patience and gentleness are the charms of woman. That 
conscience is every man’s first political law. Let us make our homes 
temples of liberty, and teach our sons that an honest man’s soverignty 
rests beneath his hat, and that no splendor can rob him and no force 
justify the surrender of the simplest right of a free and independent 
citizen. And above all let us honor God in our homes—anchor them 
close to his love; build his altars above our hearthstones, uphold 
them m the set and simple faith of our fathers and crown them with 
the Bible—that book of books in which all the ways of life are made 
straight and the mystery of death is made plain. The home is the 
source of our national life. Back of the national Capitol and above 
it stands the home. Back of the President and above him stands the 
citizen. What the home is, this and nothing else will the 'Capitol 
be. What the citizen wills, this and nothing else will the President 
be”. 

Yes, homes after this example will save America from the rocks, 
and in turn save the world; for I believe that America was left un¬ 
discovered hundreds of years in order that she, with her high ideals 
of liberty and the Christian Religion, might be the savior of countries 
long downtrodden by tyranny and the prince of darkness. 

Peace! PeaceT there is no peace! But when the Savior returns 
and the devil is chained, then shall we have peace. Legislation will 
never bring about peace; the League of Nations will effect but little 
good; ’tis the gospel of peace that will bring peace. 


FINIS: UNIVERSAL PEACE, WHEN? 


207 


“And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world 
for a witness unto all nations; then shall the end come.” Then the 
happy meeting on the other side! 

From every nook and corner of this old earth, redeemed from the 
fall by the Lamb of God, shall come forth multiplied millions, among 
whom shall be our brave Christian soldiers who gloriously fell in the 
greatest struggle for liberty ever known to the human race. And 
around the Throne of God, where there shall be no more sorrow, no 
more sickness, no more death; where we shall never more know the 
cruel effects of bloody wars, and where there shall be no more sep¬ 
arations; the angels “OYER THERE” shall strike the chord, and that 
mighty army of the Lord shall sing: 

“All hail the power of Jesus’ name, 

Let angels prostrate fall; 

Bring forth the royal diadem, 

And crown Him lord of all! 

“Ye chosen seed of Israel’s race, 

Ye ransomed from the fall, 

Hail Him who saves you by His grace, 

And crown Him Lord of all! 

“Let every kindred, every tribe, 

Of this terrestial ball, 

To Him all majesty ascribe, 

And crown Him Lord of all! 

“O that with yonder sacred throng 
We at His feet may fall! 

We’ll join the everlasting song, 

And crown Him Lord of all.” 


THE END 









































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APPENDIX 


POEMS 


STORIES 


A Smile _ 

My Country ___ 

Our Life_ 

Paradise Begun _ 

Sea Maid’s Music_ 

His Love and Care_ 

Cheer _ 

The Fire _ 

Ridiculous Excess_. 

Providence _ 

True Friends _ 

Daffodils _ 

Duty - 

The Spirit _ 

Death __ 

“Weep not for Death” __ 

Four Things_- 

“He Was a Man” _ 

My Work _ 

Play the Game_ 

The Heart of a Man- 

Onward! _ 

The Rainy Day - 

Liberty --- 

Things of Soul- 

A Mother’s Gift- 

God’s Providence_ 

“I am Glad”_ 

Love’s Behest-- 

“Learn to Labor and to 


_1 

_7 v 

_15 

_15 

_31 

_31 

_14 

_38 

_39 

_47 

_54 

_55 

_62 

_63 

_71 

_79 

_86 

_94 

_95 

_103 

___111 

_118 

_119 . 

_127 

_134 

_135 

_143 

_150 

_151 

Wait” 

158 


“If they were Strong in Thee’* 

159 

Love ihat Subdueth __——-167 , 

Our,Destiny --—___.l74 | 

Our Birth _175 , 

The Soul of Man ——--182 ; - 

The’City-—,-183 

Love ---—.-1 91 

“For All Your Days Prepare” 198 

Universal Peace -199 

All Hail the Power-207 


Museum in New York_28 

On Board_36 

The Live Dead-Man_37 

First Service_42 

Washing Clothes_44 

The Old Chateau_52 

The Kiddies _58 

Our Enemies _58 

The Yale Graduate’s Trouble 101 

Ignorant of the Bible-105 

Salvation Army _107-108 

At the K. C. Hut_109 

“The Minister’s Handicap” — v 

The Little Mother_117 

A Happy Service-121 

The Private’s Troubles,__123-124 

The Texas Man’s Story_124 

Back to the Pori_125-126 

The Captain’s Story_130 

A Very Old Fortress_131-132 

Passing of Mother_141 

The Jew Soldier’s Debt_145 

My Orderly__161 

The Chaplain Busy (?) __162 

Helping the Sick_163 

A Wild Night_164 

Old Born Drunk_____166 


The Lieutenant’s Escape_170 

Mother, Oh Mother! _171 

The Rescue of the C. O.-171 

Semur Church _179 

A Sad Misfortune_181. 

Shellshocked -185 

“The Mystery of Life” _____194 

His Arms were Gone-198 

God’s Son in the War-201 

The Farmer’s Home-204-206 



































































SUNNY SPOTS 


Called Before the Major-21 

The Guard’s Reply-27 

“Goodby 01’ Messkit”_35 

“Has Moore Got to Come Up” 37 
The “Extinguished” Preacher 42 

The G:cs Mask-61 

Two Hats _92 

Too Many Preachers-39 

One on the Barber-122 

The Coot.'e Busy---122 

A Tiptop Dinner-123 

Goodby, Souvenirs! -133 

How Coke County was N. med 

138 

“Goodby God, I’m Going Back 

io o e County”-139 

Pretty Rough Work-157 

“The Monkey Man”-195 

"Very Happy -196 


DESCRIPTIONS 

First Sight of Brest, France__41 
Fields and S yle-43 


French Trains -49 

A Landscape -,-60 

My House -69 

Barrage - 76 

Blues _76 

My New Hut-89 

An Air Raid-90-91 

Two Air Battles-93-94 

Furnishing Entertainment _98-99 

The Change -100 

Wrecked Verdun-117 

A Sandstorm -140 

A Tough Fight (?)-174 

A Mil tary Funeral-180 

Review by General Pershing 

180-181 

The Grand Opera of Paris __186 

The Madeleine Church-186 

Napoleon’s Tomb -188 


HISTORY 

Cost of the War-H 

Sketch of Simmons College. _25 

The Army Welfare Hut-107 

Battles Around Verdun—113-116 
Attack on Palace of Louis XIV 

145-148 


The Beginning of Paris-148 

The Famous Notre-Dame —149 
History of the Red Cross 154-158 
Lightning Division in Action 

109-170 

Who Captured Grandpre? __172 


Mutier—St. Jean-—172 

Story of Joan of Arc-177-179 

Vercingetorix -182 

Story of the Bastille-187 


NARRATIVES 

Attending Church-28 

Bronx Park, New York-29 

Coney Island -29 

To the Top of Woolworth-—-30 

An Accident at Sea-33-34 

Abandon Ship Alarm-34-35 

In Camp Bougent---41 

“Kamerad” - 43 

“Last Call’-^ 

A Breakfast Alone--59 

Shopping -62 

My Firs; Air-Battle-65 

The Flash of Guns-66 

Something That “Bus ed”-67 

First Gas Alarm-68 

Trip to No-Man’s Land-69 

Shelled -75 

Corporal Durbin’s Bur al __84-86 

Ford Trouble --—90 

Left! _ 134 

Trouble with the Cab Driver 135 
Cashing a Check-189-190 


QUOTATIONS 

Real Treasures -23 

Wilson’s Speech to Congress 

12-13 


Declaration of War-13-14 

What the Major Said-19 

Friendship -54 

Private Bailey’s Story-77 

Letters From Home-81-83 

Dangers -87 


Dr. Scarborough’s Counsel —137 
The Bible—President Wilson 142 
Words of General Pershing__142 
Corporal Proctor’s Influence 162 

































































































































































































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